


Underneath the Tree

by dattumblrgal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys Kissing, Cabin Fic, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Home for Christmas, M/M, New York City, Pennsylvania, Small Towns, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21806614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dattumblrgal/pseuds/dattumblrgal
Summary: Covering his eyes with his left hand, Harry sighs, interrupting his mom. "Fine, I'll bring him over. But I'm not promising anything because he has a family too and he might want to be with them.""Try your best, okay honey?" Anne chirps. "Then give me a call as soon as you know. Love you, sweetie. Good luck with exams.""Love you," Harry replies numbly, before whispering a low "Fuck" once the line is dead.Wonderful, truly wonderful. How is he going to find a boyfriend in two fucking weeks? This is karma, actual karma for lying about a boyfriend that doesn't exist. He learns about the inner workings of the human mind all day and then he goes and pulls this kinda shit himself. Christmas is either going to end up a disaster or smothered in more lies.OR - Harry needs a fake boyfriend for Christmas. Niall might have a suggestion that Harry won't really like. Enter Zayn with his dreamy eyes and a supernatural affinity to get families (including Harry's) to love him.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 16
Kudos: 217





	1. i.

“Mom, I'm really busy.”

It isn't the best greeting to the woman who gave him life, but Harry truly doesn't have time to talk about their annual Christmas family getaway for half an hour when it's the same each year. Go to their cabin in Dutch Country, get there at around 4 PM on December 22nd, bring a smile and your Christmas sweater.

“Sweetie,” Anne scoffs on the other side of the line. “If you want to cause complete disorganization because you can't spare two minutes for your mother then fine, have it your way.”

“Sorry,” Harry says offhandedly, putting the call on speakers and setting it down on his desk. He continues to type away on his laptop, trying to finish a monotonous assignment as fast as he can.

“I just wanted to check in to ask if you are bringing your boyfriend over?”

Harry stops in his tracks, his fingers uselessly hovering over the keyboard. He thought his mom would've forgotten about the imaginary boyfriend he created a few months after his breakup with Logan so she would get off his back about his being lonely. Yes, Harry might've cried for a week in his bed and yes, he wanted to settle down with Logan and live happily ever after, but things don't always work that way. Since then, Harry has pieced his heart back together and he hasn't gotten into any new relationships because for once in his life, he's enjoying the freedom of simply messing around and being young. Anne, however, is still under the impression that Harry needs someone by his side to keep him together, to keep him from being lonely or whatever.

By Harry's lies, he should be in a pretty serious relationship now.

“Uh, no, he isn't coming,” Harry says after an awkward pause, getting back to his work.

“Oh? Why not? Harry, you need to bring him over. Everyone's coming with a partner, you can't be alone. And I want to meet him. It's been ages since you've first mentioned him. You've been keeping him a secret long enough. I get that you were a bit wary about bringing home someone new after Logan but-”

Covering his eyes with his left hand, Harry sighs, interrupting his mom. “Fine, I'll bring him over. But I'm not promising anything because he has a family too and he might want to be with them.”

“Try your best, okay honey?” Anne chirps. “Then give me a call as soon as you know. Love you, sweetie. Good luck with exams.”

“Love you,” Harry replies numbly, before whispering a low “Fuck” once the line is dead.

Wonderful, truly wonderful. How is he going to find a boyfriend in two fucking weeks? This is karma, actual karma for lying about a boyfriend that doesn't exist. He learns about the inner workings of the human mind all day and then he goes and pulls this kinda shit himself. Christmas is either going to end up a disaster or smothered in more lies.

xxx

Harry has friends that are sometimes too good to be true. From hauling his drunk ass back to his dorm almost every weekend, to quizzing him for exams when he's at his wits' end, a literal human ball of stress, they prove themselves to be angels bestowed to Harry from high heavens to look over him when he's being a dumbass (which is arguably quite often). Now, Niall is the one to save him from embarrassment and cheap excuses for his mom.

After complaining about the whole Christmas ordeal in a Subway while they ate lunch, Niall ever so graciously came up with a plan so good, Harry will continue to thank him for it for the rest of his life, however long that may be.

“It's simple,” Niall shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. “I'll go with ya. Your mum will love me.”

“Really? You would do that?” Harry widens his eyes. “Without trying to seduce my mom?”

“Sure,” Niall replies. “She's a wonderful woman, very fit, but I can be a faithful fake boyfriend. Why not? I'm not going home this year and I've nothing better to do either way.”

“God, Niall,” Harry smiles, hugging his friend over the table. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Aye, you cunt, you love me every Friday when you're pissed off your arse,” Niall huffs and puffs but there's no animosity behind the words. “You're my best friend, Haz, course I'll help you out. I'm good as long as there are some drinks and I don't have to like… proper snog you in front of your mum.”

“No,” Harry says. “Maybe a kiss underneath the mistletoe, but not  _ snogging _ .”

Niall looks at him with furrowed brows. “Your family's like… one of those crazy people who all wear matching Christmas sweater and are generally just nuts?”

Harry gasps silently. “No, of course not. That's just a nice tradition, the mistletoe. I like it. And we don't have matching Christmas sweaters but you and I should have ones because Logan and I always matched.”

“Hm,” Niall squints his eyes, sandwich hanging in his hand. “How long were you two dating?”

“More than two years,” Harry sighs. “So two Christmases in our cabin, which is more than enough for my mom to pick up that tradition.”

Niall raises his brows but doesn't say anything. Instead, he shakes his head a bit and returns to his sandwich. He then mumbles something under his breath which might sound like “Crazy Americans, God help me.” but Harry knows Niall's remarks about things are rarely serious so he lets it go.

“We need to leave for the cabin around midday on the 22nd,” Harry says then. “It's quite a long drive when there's snow so better be safe than stuck somewhere in the cold when the roads get undrivable.”

“That's cool,” Niall nods. “And we leave after New Year's Eve?”

“Yes,” Harry affirms. “It's quite long but trust me, there are things to do and even if not, there's wifi and TV so everything will be fine. And my family's really easy-going, so yeah.”

“I trust you,” Niall says, smiling a little. “You can't have a bad family if they raised you to be such a nice bloke.”

“Aw, Ni,” Harry coos. “Keep saying shit like that when we're actually pretending to be boyfriends.”

“Don't worry,” Niall wiggles his brows. “There's more from where that came from. You can rely on the Horan charm.”

“I absolutely will,” Harry laughs. “When's your last exam, by the way?”

“The 18th? I think?”

“Great,” Harry says. “Mine's on the 19th. Hopefully, I'll pass them all.”

“You will,” Niall says with a full mouth. “And then Christmas may commence and I can get spectacularly pissed as a reward for this shitty semester.”

They both burst into laughter.

xxx

Harry calls his mom that afternoon, telling her how his boyfriend is coming after all and that they're both  _ so _ excited to make the trip and spend Christmas with Harry's family. Anne is ecstatic, gushing over how she can't wait to meet him and how she's happy Harry's got “someone special” to spend the most wonderful time in the year with. Harry's just grateful he won't have to make a million fake excuses and suffer through nearly two weeks of Anne's sad, pitying look, so sad that her son is just oh so alone. Harry loves his mom, he truly does, he loves her more than anyone, but her worries about Harry's love life can be overbearing sometimes.

Thanks to Niall's generosity and goodwill, Harry flies through the majority of exam season without having to stress about something other than his grades. He aces all of his exams, thankfully, and having just one left, Cultural Psychology, which is the easiest one of them. Since it's not hard and Harry's already studied, he goes out to a fancy Christmas party in a quite lavish bar. The invite was sitting on his desk for weeks and he's actually pretty unsure where it came from. Might've been Misha, a girl he dated for two weeks (meaning had sex with four times) not too long after the breakup with Logan.

It's December 16th, Harry's passed almost all of his exams, his date for the Christmas get-together is his best friend and he's having a great time. Surely, everything goes to shit that night.

Harry was ready to make out with a quite handsome older guy, tall, black hair, stubble and an air of confidence around when his phone started vibrating. There was no way in hell he would be picking up that call when he has a man like that holding onto his hips and smiling down at him but then the phone went off again. Continuing to ignore it, Harry was irked to feel his phone ring for the third time in less than five minutes. The urgency of those frequent calls was palpable so with a roll of his eyes, Harry excused himself and retreated to a hallway to pick it up.

Upon seeing the screen, Harry was met with Niall's contact pic staring right back at him.

“Are you in a life-threatening situation, Niall?” Harry says in lieu of a greeting.

Niall scoffs. “Not really. But I've bad news.”

“Are you okay?” Harry worries. “Did something happen?”

“Kind of?” Niall says. “I can't go with you to your family's Christmas thing.”

Harry's head spins, the already kaleidoscopic bar dancing all around him. He leans against a wall, gripping his phone tighter. “What?”

“You know I have that sinus surgery before Christmas?” Niall explains. “Well, my doctor said I can't go anywhere that soon. I thought it wouldn't be a problem but apparently it is. I'm really sorry cause I had no idea, these cunts didn't tell me a thing about the recovery on my last appointment. But! Don't worry, mate. I've got a replacement.”

“Niall,” Harry breathes out. “It's okay. I can't be mad at you, it's your health and it's more important than this. And thanks for the effort, but I'd rather go alone than go with one of your frat friends. Really, I love you but I can't stand those dudes.”

“Who do you think I am, Hazza?” Niall's all faux-offended. “I know you've nothing to talk about with the boys. I do have someone else for ya, and if I'm not mistaken, you two are friends.”

“I shouldn't be really surprised since you know everyone,” Harry smiles. “Is it Cameron?”

“No. Cameron,” Niall scoffs like it's the most ridiculous thing ever. “He's a pretentious cunt, I don't like him. I talked to Zayn, actually. He's a handsome bloke, I would if I was into men. So you might even get some, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh my god,” Harry whines because this is the absolute worst thing that could've happened.

“Why are you whining for? He's the hottest man in Manhattan that isn't leaving for Christmas, you should be kissing my arse.”

“Ni, I  _ hate _ him,” Harry complains, his voice comparable to one of a whiny toddler.

Harry might be exaggerating but it's true that Zayn is far from his favourite person. Sure, to an outsider they might even look like friends, certainly amicable acquaintances at least but it's all just because Harry is too politely to be rude to Zayn. He can be passive-aggressive, and he is, often. But it's hard to act like Zayn, like everything's fine when Harry can still feel his heart dropping in his chest and the taste of tequila makes him wanna puke. It's hard to forget the arousal and the consequent dismissal. Betrayal, almost.

But the Venn diagram of their friend groups is nearly a perfect circle so Harry can't avoid him, no matter how hard he tries. They're not exactly friends but nor are they enemies. Harry can be extremely nice to people he doesn't like when he wants to. His mom says his smiles reels in even someone who  _ wants  _ to hate Harry. So Harry does smile at Zayn when they're all out together in bars or at parties, even if he doesn't truly mean it. Hell, Zayn might even think they  _ are  _ actually friends.

“Harry, shut up. Zayn's a lovely guy, he's hot and he agreed to go spend like two weeks with complete strangers for you. Be nice for once.”

“I'm always nice,” Harry shrieks, pulling off the wall and starting to walk in circles like a hungry lion. “And I didn't ask him to do it. He doesn't have to.”

“Oh no, he has to,” Niall says. “He owes me a favour and this is it. He'll go, even if you don't want to because it'd be good for both of you. You are both single and hot and this is a perfect opportunity. Trust me, you will have more fun with him than with me because I would just get pissed all the time and snore in your ear at night. Plus, I hog the blankets.”

“I can't believe you're making me do this,” Harry sighs. “This is going to be the worst Christmas ever.”

“Don't be stupid. And I almost forgot, I told him you two will meet before the trip, on the 20th in that coffee shop near your building at three, so you can like… chat about whatever you need.”

“Since when are you arranging meetings for me with people? What if I were busy?”

“You're not,” Niall replies easily. “You were planning to eat your weight in Christmas cookies while you watched Home Alone.”

Harry doesn't try to refute because it's, in fact, true, he was planning on doing just that. Well, maybe eating slightly fewer cookies since he tries to take care of his figure. Those abs and ass don't come for nothing.

“I know you better than you think, Styles,” Niall laughs. “I have to go, I've a party to get to. Bye, love ya, don't embarrass me in front of Zayn.”

“I wouldn't dare,” Harry replies but his mind is already somewhere else.

At least he's already in a bar so he can get drunk over this bullshit.

xxx

Harry doesn't believe in curses or magic, or whatever it is that people blame their troubles and misfortunes on. Because if he did, he'd definitely say that the phone call from Niall was cursed since from the moment he had hung up, everything seemed to go to shit.

Firstly, the guy Harry wanted to fuck was already occupied with someone else by the time Harry got back. He hasn't gotten laid in  _ ages _ thanks to finals and all that, and now he had to suffer his sexual frustration for even longer.

Then Harry proceeds to get a B from his last exam, the easiest one, the one he was supposed to ace with his eyes closed and yet, there he was with a B. He doesn't even know  _ why _ he got the B but he guesses it's in the past now.

And lastly, he has to meet Zayn. In… seven minutes ago and he's still a block away. So he rushes through the pedestrians walking with Christmas shopping and hot beverages in their hands, all of them happily looking at the hordes of snow all around and the snowflakes falling from the sky as if there wasn't already enough snow covering every square inch of New York City. Surely, Harry slips near the door and almost plasters over the ground. The only thing keeping him from bruising his ass and getting himself wet and dirty is the door handle, which he nearly rips out but both his ass and the handle survive.

He walks in, shaking off the mounds of snow off of himself and spots Zayn nearly immediately. At a table near the other window, thankfully not the one Harry almost slipped in front of, Zayn sits alone, the table empty save for Zayn's leather gloves. He's looking at his phone and yep, he's just as hot as he was a month and a half ago when Harry last saw him.

Harry takes a deep breath and approaches him, saying a quiet “Hi” before he begins taking his coat off. Zayn looks up, smiling upon seeing Harry and muttering a “Hello” of his own.

“Sorry I'm late,” Harry breathes out as he sits down. “The snow… you know,” he gestures with his hand.

“Yeah, no, it's fine,” Zayn smiles again. “Don't worry, you're not like… forty minutes late. It's nothing.”

Harry nods, nervously rubbing his hands over his black jeans which are somehow a little bit damp from the snow, before looking up at Zayn. “Have you ordered yet?”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head a little. “I waited for you. Figured it's the polite thing to do.”

“Polite, yeah,” Harry breathes out a laugh. “Anyways, I am so sorry Niall roped you into this. It's… embarrassing and honestly, you don't have to go with me. You barely know me, you've never met my family it's just… yeah. I don't want you to waste your break on this.”

Zayn laughs, stupidly attractive as usual and Harry wants to run away and never look back. Why is it always the jerks that are the hottest?

“It's okay, Harry,” Zayn says with his blinding smile. “You absolutely don't have to apologize. We're friends, yeah? You're not the worst company, better than my roommate's old ass dog that slobbers all over everything anyway. Besides, Niall would probably cut my balls off if I didn't go so… for the good of my possible future children, I'll go with you. It can be fun. My family doesn't really do Christmas like that either way. It'd be a new experience.”

“Is that why you're not going home?” Harry asks brazenly and the moment the question leaves his mouth, he wants to slap himself. Way to go, stick his nose in Zayn's private life before they even leave for the vacation.

“I wouldn't be going home, technically,” Zayn says then, thankfully not calling out Harry for being rude. “We always celebrate Christmas somewhere away from New York. They're all going to Switzerland, last year we went to Aspen and I nearly broke my leg snowboarding so I'm not hitting the slopes with them this year. The whole thing's a bit complicated but… whatever, what family vacation isn't, right?”

Harry terribly wants to inquire more, find some little bits and pieces about Zayn's family but the waitress comes, asking their orders. Without having taken a single look at the menu, Harry just asks for a latte with sugar, the usual thing he gets here and Zayn orders a black coffee with two sugars. Sounds disgusting but once again, Harry bites his tongue. It's not the time or place to go back to his passive-aggressive ways with Zayn. In spite of everything, he'll rather go to the family getaway with a jerk that bruised his not so fragile ego than alone.

“So, Harry,” Zayn says, his hands crossed on the table. “We're supposed to be boyfriends. What do I need to know? I don't know how long we're supposed to be dating but I assume it can't be a month since you're taking me on a family vacation with you. And as you know, in a business course I'm no theatre student but I can be good at lying when I want to.”

' _ I know, thanks for the first-hand experience,'' _ Harry thinks and contradictory to his thoughts, he smiles sweetly at Zayn.

“We've been 'dating',” Harry does the air quotes. “for about seven months. Let's say our half-year anniversary was on the 3rd. Whatever. My mom's name is Anne, dad's is Des. I have an older sister, Gemma. My auntie, her husband and her kids will be there. Betty, Paul, Matt and Jane. And I'm not sure if my uncle and his family are coming. His name's Ian, his wife's Judie and they have the most adorable kids, Nina and Lily, they're five and two. So that's about family. Oh and my granny Evelyn will definitely be there.”

“Quite a lot then,” Zayn says with a weird look on his face. “Are we going to a cabin or a hotel?”  
“It's a big cabin, alright?” Harry scoffs. “They might not all come too. So, where did we meet? What was our first date like? Don't make me do all the work.”

“Um, at a party? Isn't that where everyone meets people in our day and age?” Zayn asks with a shrug. “We actually met in a bar, didn't we? Through Niall?”

Harry breathes in sharply, his nostrils flaring and he's just about to start yelling about how they did meet at a  _ party _ too, not that Zayn cares enough to remember but the waitress brings them their drinks, once again saving Harry from making a fool out of himself.

“Fine, we met at a party,” Harry says dully. “What next?”

“I… asked you out for dinner and the rest was history?” Zayn tries.

“So that's what you usually do when you like someone? Woo them properly?” Harry asks, his voice cutting. He can't help himself but go back to a night in his freshman year and that terrible embarrassment and disappointment.

“Yeah, usually,” Zayn nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “I used to be a little… wilder back in like… our freshman year but I'm not really into hooking up anymore.”

“Interesting,” Harry says, his eyes burning through Zayn. So then Harry wasn't good enough even for a stupid hook up. Fine, that's fine, it's completely okay. Why should Harry care?

“Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face? You're looking at me, like…”

“Oh,” Harry shakes himself out of his little trance. “No, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts.”

“Okay,” Zayn says a little disbelievingly. “Is there anything else?”

Harry remembers then. “Matching Christmas sweaters.”

“Oh,” Zayn raises his brows. “Like… the whole family?”

“No, just me and you,” Harry says. “It was… a tradition with my ex. My mom already sent me a text hoping we don't forget our sweaters. Just- don't ask.”

“Not the worst tradition to have,” Zayn shrugs. “There could be worse things than a matching sweater. So, you have your ex's sweater or are we going shopping?”

Harry's stomach drops, realising that he never asked Logan for the sweater. It didn't make sense to do so, still doesn't because Harry doesn't want any things connecter to Logan in his possession. But now, it's quite annoying.

“I guess we're going shopping,” Harry sighs painfully.

xxx

Perhaps Harry's curse breaks because shopping for Christmas sweaters with Zayn isn't torture. They walk to an H&M not that far from the café and the streets are so busy they don't even have to talk to each other since it's basically impossible. Zayn  _ maybe _ catches Harry from falling on the icy sidewalk, grabbing his elbow firmly and then snaking his arm around Harry's waist for a second but it's just an afterthought.

The store is equally as busy, if not more but they were both certain they'd find Christmas sweaters there. Their design and originality, well, Harry couldn't give less fucks about it. They pick some red ones with a reindeer that has a pom-pom on his nose and pay for them without even trying them on. Afterwards, they say bye in front of the store, leaving with the promise of texting each other about the times and all that.

Harry really wants to call Niall and complain about his  _ awesome _ idea but Harry's not a heartless monster and Niall did just have his sinuses removed. He'll get a proper chewing up in the new year, if Harry survives the holidays that is. There's no way he will be able to spend more than a week pretending like he loves Zayn and like he can stand him. And if he manages to do it, it will surely be a fucking Oscar-worthy performance.

Truth be told, Harry doesn't leave his dorm room until midday on December 22nd. He might've been sulking, he might've watched six Christmas movies and he might've stalked Zayn's Instagram while drinking shitty red wine. No one will ever know though.

Zayn texted him his address and Harry begrudgingly replied that he's gonna pick him up at 12:30 PM, sharp, because they need to get there quickly due to roads and snow, which is a combination made by Satan himself. He packs at the last minute because he was too lazy to get his ass off the bed before. In the end, Harry manages to get everything into his car by 12:25 and he's at Zayn's place, magically, at 12:32. Zayn doesn't live on campus. Instead, he shares an apartment in a brownstone with a friend of his not that far from Columbia.

Harry has no trouble finding the place since Zayn's already standing outside, in a camel coat with a designer holdall on his shoulder. The snow's softly falling around them and Harry only rolls his eyes because it's not the time nor the weather for Zayn to look this put together. Who is he, honestly?

Zayn waves at him, which Harry doesn't return and only gives him a half-assed smile, before going straight to the trunk of Harry's Range Rover. Less than a minute later, Zayn's in the passenger seat, taking off his gloves and gently shaking the snow off of himself which nearly makes Harry smack him because now his car's going to be all wet. Whatever, Harry doesn't want to start a fight even before they reach the destination.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Zayn says.

Harry's now set his eyes on the road, already making his way through the snowy streets of Manhattan. “No problem. We're… boyfriends, after all. At least until January the 6th.”

“Quite short-lived one then.”

Harry just hums in response. An awkward silence fills the car so Harry turns on the radio, setting it on an indie station. With all these  _ extra _ Christmas things Harry's family does that Zayn will encounter, Harry doesn't want to play Christmas music now in case Zayn starts thinking he's insane. Silence is better than a strained conversation that no one's comfortable with.

The drive stays like that for a while. Harry can see Zayn texting on his phone out of the corner of his eye but it doesn't bother him. Later they talk a bit, mainly about exams and their fake relationship. They tell each other some little facts so everyone won't see how clueless about one another they truly are. Harry learns that Zayn's favourite colour is green, he has three sisters and his guilty pleasure is superhero movies. That's probably it for successfully faking a relationship.

Thankfully, they arrive without getting stuck in a snowstorm somewhere in Pennsylvanian forests. They silently get their bags out of the trunk and walk around the car on the same side.

“Wait,” Zayn says suddenly.

Harry turns around, giving Zayn a questioning look. “Did you forget something?”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head and steps closer to Harry. “Your mom's watching. And… we haven't really tried out the whole kissing part and I assume we will have to kiss at some point this week to make this whole thing believable. This is a good opportunity to try it out and show some affection, albeit fake, when your mom believes we think no one's watching.”

' _ We have kissed before, I just wasn't important enough to you for you to care,'  _ Harry wants to say. He doesn't.

Instead, Harry puts his free hand on Zayn's cheek and pulls him into a kiss. Their lips touch, this delicious warmth spreading all over. Harry moves his lips experimentally, lightly running his tongue along Zayn's bottom lip, asking for permission. Surprisingly, he opens his mouth and meets Harry's tongue with his, the kiss immediately firing up. Zayn puts his hands on Harry's hips and that's when Harry ruts him, meeting him in the middle. They're both wearing coats so the effect is a bit lost but Harry thinks he made his point. Zayn surely won't fucking forget  _ this _ kiss.

Harry pulls away when Zayn least expects it, smiling cockily as he grabs Zayn's hand and hauls him towards the front door. Zayn's a bit stunned from the abrupt ending and his lips are kissed red. That's a good step forward, if Harry says so himself. At least now he knows how Harry felt all that time ago. 

There's a warm feeling spreading through Harry's chest, not from the kiss but the sight of their family cabin makes him happier than he's been in months. The bright red building has a stables look to it, but it's only ever been a cabin. With its white windows and double light-brown doors, it's something straight out of a fairytale but it's here in the real world. This place holds more happy memories than any other and not even being here with a guy that bruised Harry's heart and ego can tarnish this holiday.

The first time Harry remembers spending Christmas here, he was about four years old. Even back then, the whole family was together and happiness was just radiating everywhere. He remembers fighting with Gemma about who gets to open their presents first on the Christmas morning and also burning his hand by putting it on the scorching oven door while his mom was baking gingerbread cookies. This is a happy place, one that feels like a warm duvet at the end of a freezing day, where nothing bad can happen and nothing can hurt you. The solace of it has been a constant and Harry can't wait till he brings his own kids here one day.

Before Harry even has the chance to put his hand on the doorknob, the door opens and his mom appears, wearing a red sweater with a white festive pattern. Subtle, yet Christmas-y enough. She smiles, opening her arms and Harry goes easily, embracing his mom on the doorstep. He breathes in the smell of her perfume, the one she's been using ever since he was little. Thanksgiving was the last time they saw each other, which wasn't a long time ago but Harry still missed her more than anything.

“Oh, my baby boy,” Anne coos as she pulls away from Harry, keeping her hands on his shoulders. “I'm so happy to see you. And who is this handsome young gentleman you've brought along?”

Anne's already grinning at Zayn, who's been standing a few steps behind Harry the whole time. Harry twists his head to look back, watching his fake boyfriend.

“That's Zayn, mom,” Harry says with much less enthusiasm than when he introduced Logan to his mom. “My boyfriend. Zayn, this is my mom.”

Anne walks down the three steps leading to the door, wrapping Zayn in a hug right away instead of shaking his hand. “It's so nice to finally meet you! Harry's been telling me so much about you but he's been keeping you a secret for  _ ages _ . I was beginning to think you didn't even exist!”

“Thank you for letting me spend the holidays with you, Mrs Styles,” Zayn smiles, ever so charming, the bastard. “It's a real pleasure to finally meet the woman that raised Harry to be such a wonderful guy.”

“Oh, stop with the flattery!” Anne waves her hand. “And please, call me Anne. I'm not  _ that _ old yet. You're basically family either way. Now come on in, both of you. It's freezing outside.”

They follow Anne inside the house, the warmth immediately enveloping them. The living room with a massive brick fireplace is empty and strangely silent, except for the crackling of the wood. It's festive like every other year with a Christmas tree in one corner and wreaths everywhere. There's mistletoe and holly hanging around. The lingering smell of candles and baking mixes with fire. Harry's soul feels at peace.

“No one's here yet?” Harry asks, already following Anne upstairs after he's taken off his boots.

“Granny's here, she's resting in her room. And your dad. He's getting wood outside. Gemma texted me that she's gonna be here a bit later because she had a last-minute thing at work. And Ian with Judie and the babies aren't coming. They might pop in for a bit on the 26th.”

“Since when doesn't Gemma tell me stuff?” Harry scoffs. “If she's late we could've waited for her. We live in the same city.”

“Oh, you know how she is,” Anne sighs. “Too busy for everything but her phone and laptop.”

They finally reach the room Harry usually stays in now, having graduated to an “adult” room once he started bringing Logan around. It has a queen-sized bed instead of bunk beds like the two “kid” rooms do.

“I've a surprise for you,” Anne grins. “Why don't you come in and see?”

Harry warily eyes his mom, unsure about what the surprise could be. It can't be a present since it's literally Christmas in a few days.

He opens the door slowly and he sees the surprise immediately. It turns out to be a black and white cat that Harry loves more than any people probably. His cat Evie, that unfortunately still lives with his mom because of the no pets policy in his dorms, is lying on the bed, comfortably twitching her ears in her sleep and purring so loud Harry can hear it all the way to the door.

“Oh my god, mom,” Harry gasps, already walking to Evie. “I missed her so much.”

Harry drops his bag on the floor which wakes Evie up. She lifts her head and with sleepy green eyes looks up at Harry before shaking off. Her eyes widen when she sees who it is and she gets up, stretching and then meowing at Harry. He takes her in his arms immediately, cuddling her and kissing her little forehead over and over again while he whispers how much he missed her into her fur.

“I'll leave you to get settled, boys,” Harry hears Anne say somewhere behind his back before the door closes with a click.

Zayn walks around the bed, putting down his bag on the bed, which Harry would complain because there are  _ so many germs _ on travel bags but Evie's more important.

“So… it looks like we'll be sharing a bed,” Zayn says then, taking off his coat.

Harry only then looks at the bed.  _ One _ bed. And fuck. He didn't even realise that they would be sharing. It's not like he can send Zayn to sleep with his cousins or have him sleep on the floor, he's not that mean. Whatever, Harry's shared bed with worse people, he's sure. As long as Zayn won't steal all the blankets, Harry's  _ mostly _ fine with it. There can be two feet of space between them, it's not like the bed is tiny.

“It's fine,” Harry says. “Or do you mind?”

“No, I don't,” Zayn shakes his head.

“Good.”

The awkward, stilted silence from the car makes an appearance again. It would've been worse had Evie not been there. Now Harry can just pet her and cuddle her all the time and mostly ignore Zayn. How wonderful?

“What's her name?” Zayn asks, walking to Harry from the other side of the bed.

“Evie,” Harry says and resists the urge to protectively hug her against his chest. “I've had her since high school. Mom rescued her when she was just a few weeks old.”

Zayn comes closer, outstretching his hand towards Evie and letting her sniff his knuckles before he gently pets her head. Evie leans into it and purrs again, the traitor.

“She's adorable,” Zayn smiles softly, looking down at her while he scratches her chin. “I love cats but my dad's a dog guy so we always had dogs. I'd absolutely love to foster some kittens but with college, I doubt I'd have time. Well, at least there are always cat cafés. And shelters, even though I usually just donate instead of volunteering because, once again, college.”

Harry curiously looks at Zayn, but he's staring down at Evie as he pets her. This is some news. Being an animal lover and someone who donates to pet charities weren't things Harry would've really associated with Zayn. The new knowledge startles Harry a bit and perhaps makes him resent Zayn just a teeny tiny bit less. If Zayn loves cats that much, Harry can't completely hate him.

“That's nice,” Harry mumbles, rubbing his thumb over Evie's toe beans. “You wanna go downstairs? Mom might have some snacks ready.”

“I'll unpack first,” Zayn says as he lifts his head, his hand leaving Evie's fur. “But you can go, we don't have to be attached at the hip.”

Harry nods, attempting a close-lipped smile. He leaves without any words, Evie still in his arms.

When he gets downstairs, Evie starts to get antsy so he lets her jump out of his arms and roam around. Anne is in the kitchen, putting sugar cookies on a cooling rack.

“Hey, mom,” Harry says, sitting down on a barstool at the kitchen island.

“Oh, hi,” Anne lifts up her head, smiling as she pushes her hair out of her face. “Where's Zayn?”

“Upstairs, unpacking,” Harry answers sluggishly. “He'll be down in a minute.”

“He's so handsome, Harry,” Anne says, getting back to the cookies. “ _ Much _ more handsome than, Logan. Seems nicer too. You are a cute couple. I was getting worried about you for a minute when you broke up with Logan.”

Harry just hums. He plays with his rings, his eyes glued to his fingers. If only she knew. Fine, Zayn might be handsome but Harry's not too sure about the  _ nice _ part. Well, he doesn't behave like an asshole in mundane situations but Harry's been  _ left _ in a frat house bathroom without a single word and that isn't  _ nice, _ is it?

“Oh, look who I found!” comes from the doorway.

Harry turns on his stool and sees his grandma Evelyn dragging Zayn into the room, her arm hooked around his. She's smiling brightly, her white curly hair making a halo around her head in the light. Harry loves her dearly, especially for her youthful spirit.

“Yep, that would be Zayn,” Harry says, the smile impossible to keep off his face as he sees his grandma. “Hey, granny. I've missed you.”

“Harry, darling,” Evelyn smiles, still not letting go of Zayn. “My favourite grandchild. Look at this beau you got yourself. If I were fifty years younger, I'd let him take me out to get milkshakes and pie.”

Zayn bites his lower lip, trying to keep in the laughter. His eyes close then as his cheeks get pink. He should start getting used to Evelyn's comments if he's supposed to be here for two weeks.

“Mom, please leave Harry's boyfriend alone,” Anne says playfully. “They've only just got here.”

“Alright, alright,” Evelyn unhands Zayn and puts her hands up. “I'm just being friendly. Now I want to know how my favourite grandson's been.”

“Wasn't it  _ grandchild _ overall a minute ago?” Harry teases.

Evelyn waves her hand. “Same difference. And you know why you're my favourite?”

Harry rolls his eyes, a smile breaking through. “Because I can bake your apple pie the best.”

“Because you can bake my apple pie the best,” Evelyn nods contentedly.

Zayn, who is now occupying the stool next to Harry, gives him a questioning look, but it's not ill-tempered. Harry just mouths “ _ it's a long story” _ before he dives in to tell Evelyn all about his exams, the terribly snowed in NYC and the massed of people he had to fight through while shopping for presents.

In the meantime, he expertly lies about some things that make his relationship with Zayn  _ oh-so-real _ . According to Harry's lies, they went ice skating a few times in December, saw a play of the Christmas Carol and last night, watched some Christmas movies in bed while they ate cookies and drank hot cocoa. Harry's quite proud of himself for coming up with it on the spot. He even kisses Zayn's cheek once and calls him  _ sweetie. _ That Oscar's already materializing.

xxx

Harry's dad comes in a few minutes later, shaking off the snow off of himself and muttering about how cold it is. He shrugs his coat off and joins them in the kitchen.

“How was New York?” he asks as he comes to hug Harry quickly. “Were the roads bad?”

“No, not at all. It's just snow, nothing too terrible,” Harry says and begrudgingly smiles. “Dad, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Zayn.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Des shakes Zayn's hand, who gives him a blinding smile in turn. Honestly, who is he? Harry can't equate it in his mind how can Zayn be so freaking nice to his family. Logan was trying to run away twenty minutes after arriving every year. 

Harry tunes out the chit-chat between his dad and Zayn, talking about college and whatnot. Yes, yes, Zayn's studying business at Columbia, he's a shining example of a human being and in real life, without any lies and Niall forcing them into this, they never would've dated because Zayn probably only dates other trust fund kids like himself. His ex is a fucking model now, c'mon. Harry's so out of his league it's sickening.

Harry's brought out of his bitter inner conversations with himself by his dad's raucous laughter. He looks over at him and Zayn, both of them laughing about something. God, why can't Zayn just be hideous? Harry knows very well that Niall has friends that don't look like goddamn models. This is some kind of cosmic punishment for him, isn't it?

“Why didn't you bring your boyfriend around sooner, Harry?” Des slaps Harry on the shoulder as he walks past him to get to the fridge. “Logan acted like we all had the bubonic plague and didn't know the alphabet. He wasn't fun to be around.”

Harry groans and covers his face with his hands, his elbows on the breakfast bar. “Why can't you guys just let Logan go? We broke up.”

“He wasn't very nice, Harry,” Anne says and reaches over the counter to ruffle his hair. “We just want the best for you.”

That only gets another groan out of Harry. He feels a hand on the small of his back then, startling him. When he looks at Zayn, he only gives Harry a small smile and whispers, “How bad was Logan that acting like a normal human being gets this reaction out of your parents?”

Harry refrains from rolling his eyes. “He was kind of pretentious, okay? Always felt like this was a bit too Hallmark movie for him but he did come with me, didn't he?” He raises his voice enough then so the whole room hears him. “I don't only date assholes, okay?” Even if that statement might be a bit untrue considering his and Zayn's history but after all, they're not dating, are they? So Zayn's free to whore around New York all he wants, it's not Harry's business. When they're back in Manhattan in January, this will all be over.

“Okay, I trust you, babe,” Zayn says and then goddamn winks at Harry, like this is all a fun game. And maybe it is, Harry realizes then. It  _ is  _ a game because none of this is real. Why should he be miserable during a great holiday with his family? They  _ can _ make a game out of it, Harry grins.

“Of course you do, honey,” Harry smiles sweetly at Zayn and smacks a kiss on his lips, starling him a little.

The game's on. Harry doesn't think there is a score, or if anyone's keeping it if there is but he's ready to play.

xxx

Gemma finally comes in just as everyone's gathered around for dinner. It's nothing fancy, just mashed potatoes, some vegetables and a whole roast chicken from Whole Foods. She apologizes profusely, complaining about this last-minute thing at work that she had to get done today.

“It's alright, darling,” Anne says after hugging Gemma, going back to the table. “Just grab a plate and join us. Take one for Peter too. Is he getting your bags from the car?”

“Peter isn't here,” Gemma says off-handedly. She kisses the top of Harry's head from behind his chair, the plate already in her hand. “Hi, baby bro. And hi Harry's very handsome boyfriend, do you have working eyesight?”

“You wench,” Harry elbows her in the ribs as she takes a seat next to him. She just sticks her tongue out at him and goes to put some food on her plate.

“Why wouldn't I?” Zayn chuckles. “Anyone would be lucky to be with Harry. And I'm Zayn, by the way, it's shorter than Harry's handsome boyfriend.”

Gemma quirks her brow at Harry before leaning over his to talk to Zayn. “I've known Harry for almost twenty-one years, you won't be saying that in a few months.”

“Funny that you're saying that,” Harry muses between bites. “Considering your boyfriend dumped you.”

Gemma gives him an amused look. “ _ I _ dumped him because he was insufferable.”

“Then you two were a perfect match!” Harry grins at Gemma and pinches her cheek. “Did you buy me a gift?”

“Yes, coal and a horse dildo, you slag,” Gemma laughs and kisses Harry's cheek quickly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I missed you, dumbass. We gotta talk about your too perfect  _ boyfriend _ later.”

Anne clears her throat. “Gemma, aren't you missing something?”

Gemma looks around the table, her eyes stopping at the bottle of red wine. “Oh, yeah,” she says, pouring herself a cup. “Thanks, mom. Needed this after dealing with those Swedes all afternoon.”

“No,” Anne huffs. “You somehow forgot to tell us that you and Peter broke up. I thought he was coming over for Christmas.”

Gemma takes a few gulps of the wine, before setting it down and looking at Anne. “Well, I didn't tell you. Sorry. It happened, now you know. I don't wanna talk about it, mom, okay? Grill Harry or something.”

“Why me?” Harry exclaims with his mouth full before swallowing. “I haven't fucked up in a long time!”

Evelyn snickers across the table. But his mom has a different idea.

“Well,” Anne says and takes a sip of her wine. “You haven't told us how you and Zayn met.”

Harry exchanges a nervous look with Zayn. This is gonna turn into a full-on investigation. They're not ready for it. But as a twist of fate or whatever, Zayn puts his hand atop Harry's on the table, giving him a smile straight out of a billboard.

“We've known each other for a while now. We met through Niall, at a party,” Zayn says, sprinkling in a bit of truth that he isn't even aware of. “But then we kind of re-met earlier this year, once again at one of Niall's parties. And Harry was just…” Zayn takes a moment to think, looking straight at Harry. And Harry swallows on nothing, unable to break the eye contact. “Lovely. He was lovely.” Zayn finishes, still looking at Harry for a beat before blinking and looking down, his eyelashes fanning over his eyes.

“I asked him out for dinner,” Zayn continues, his hand now away from Harry's, the warmth replaced by an apparent chill. “And the rest was history, I guess. We hit it off and we've been dating for around six months.”

Harry gathers himself, knowing he can't let charade this become a one-man show. “We've been taking a bit slow but it got kinda impossible. We're just head over heels in love now. Can't be without him for more than a day.”

“He's always blowing up my phone,” Zayn chuckles artificially. “And we spend so much time together it's stupid we haven't moved in together but we both have a lease until graduation, so. Guess we'll see after that.”

“Graduation is in summer, isn't it?” Des wonders. “What are you planning after that, Zayn? Grad school?”

Zayn hums, not really looking at anyone. “I'll probably just start working at my dad's company.”

“Oh really?” Des asks. “What kinda company.”

“Investments and stuff,” Zayn clears his throat. “Really boring things. I won't try to put you all to sleep with it.”

“Are you interested in it as well?” Anne inquiries.

Harry watches Zayn take a deep breath before answering. “Not quite. I wanted to study law but my parents had too good of an argument against going into environmental law.”

“You wanted to study that?” Harry asks before he can stop himself.

Zayn gives him a small smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes. “Yeah. I must've told you about it before, babe.”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes in sharply. “It had to slip my mind.” He plasters a close-lipped grin over his face and gets back to his food.

“Are you excited about your work experience class, Harry?” Anne asks then. Harry doesn't actually mind being asked about this, thankfully. She just better not ask about something as menial as Zayn's birthday because he's fucked.

“Yeah, I can't wait,” Harry smiles genuinely. “I've got some materials here with me for the internship to go over during the break too.”

“Really?” Zayn's the one to ask this time. “What is it?”

“It's the support group for queer teens dealing with internalized homophobia,” Harry answers, quickly coming to his senses. “I told you about this, babe, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Zayn acts along. “I just wasn't sure which one you took because you were deciding between this and that other thing with the- you know what I mean.”

“Right,” Harry laughs and waves a hand. “I was so swamped with finals I barely had the time to think about this.”

“Yeah, same,” Zayn chuckles, looking at Harry's parents then, in a performance worthy of a B-rate film. “The final season was insane this year. It was so hard studying and then trying to do some fun things so we don't go insane. But we managed, after all, didn't we, baby?”

“We did,” Harry grins at Zayn. “We're just so good at multitasking.”

“Right?” Zayn nods at him with a smile.

There might be an air of awkwardness around the table but Harry resolutely ignores it. No matter how many ugly looks Gemma gives him, Harry's not compromising his cover. She would never let him live this down.

xxx

Everyone retires to bed quite soon and Harry would've been thankful to finally be away from the questions but then it's gonna be just him and Zayn. What the fuck are they gonna talk about? Do they even have anything in common? Well, they both love cats. And are too fucking weak for them, which Harry learned after he saw Zayn slipping Evie some of his chicken underneath the table, which Harry normally does too but now his cat has decided that she's a traitor and a war criminal.

The beginning of their night in the room is quiet, as they both silently take turns in the bathroom to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas. Zayn turns up in a white t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms and Harry only now remembered that Zayn has quite a lot of nice tattoos. That can be another conversation starter perhaps. They both have tattoos. There, that's an awkward silence avoided.

As they're getting into bed, Harry has to once again ask if Zayn doesn't mind sharing.

Zayn chuckles, getting under the covers promptly. “Harry, trust me, I've shared a bed with way worse people than you. I shared a bed with a drunk Niall once and I woke up to being literally pushed out of it. You can't be as bad as Niall after three pints of Guinness and god knows how many shots of whiskey.”

“I won't try to push you out, I promise,” Harry chuckles softly as he gets into bed as well. “I can't promise I won't hog the blankets but that's not a conscious decision so don't blame the awake me.”

“I think I can deal with that,” Zayn lets out a laugh. Silence falls over them as they both stare at the ceiling, as much space between them as possible. If this is how it's gonna go, this Christmas break will be awkward as hell.

“How did I do as a fake boyfriend tonight?” Zayn asks after a few strained minutes pass. The sheer absurdity of the situation makes Harry laugh. His life is now a fucking Hallmark movie. Fake dating, how does that even happen in real life? Harry's life hasn't been anything out of the ordinary so how does shit like fake dating even stumble upon him?

“You've been great,” Harry says around a laugh. He finally calms down then, turning his head on the pillow to find Zayn already looking at him with a slight smirk, his eyes bright in the darkness. “But really, Zayn thank you for doing this. It's crazy. If Niall came  _ to me _ , telling me to go and pretend to be some guy's boyfriend for the holidays I'd call him insane and leave. How did he even get you here?”

“I already told you, Haz, I don't mind,” Zayn smiles a little. “I didn't have any plans either way. And so far, this has been fun. Your family is amazing. This cabin and the whole family Christmas thing is great, truly. I don't have a reason to lie to you. If I felt horrible here I'd just lie about coming down with a horrible flu or something and I'd go back to New York.”

“Well,” Harry's lips turn into a smile on their own accord. “You're welcome to fake anything to get out of here if you feel uncomfortable or if it's too much for you.”

“Thanks but I don't think I'll need it,” Zayn shrugs. “I've been having a good time, so far.”

“I'm glad,” Harry nods softly, still looking at Zayn. He's too lazy to turn his head back up so he watches Zayn, who isn't too keen to go back to staring at the boring, white ceiling. Harry must admit that Zayn has a pretty impressive bone structure. Not that he cares. Not that he still doesn't remember how Zayn's cheekbones looked like in the shitty light of that frat party. He does, he just can't let it hang over his head constantly because he will go insane come January. This can be a fun holiday, even with this anvil hovering above, waiting to drop and shatter everything. It's all just a fucking game of fooling Harry's family.

“Why does your family hate your ex Logan so much?” Zayn asks out of nowhere. Harry sighs, finally turning his head back up. He'd rather count the cracks in the ceiling but this will eventually come up. Gemma and his granny have no fucking filter on their mouths. It's better Zayn hears it from him.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't wanna,” Zayn says then, his voice quiet. “It's not of my business, really. I was just wondering.”

“No, it's fine,” Harry lets out a breath. “He never liked it here but came over because I literally threw a scene every time. It didn't feel like it back then. I thought it was just normal. I loved him, I really did but I realized he didn't really care about me as much. I was easy. Always there if he wanted to fuck or go out or do anything. It was an unspoken thing but since that asshole never did anything for me, he had to come here on Christmas. He was being a miserable twat about it, never really liked my family.  _ Hated _ Gemma because she told me to break up with him multiple times. But I was in love.

“He was a musician. He was a bit older than me but I hit on him, not the other way. It wasn't a power thing or something. I was so into him and the first few months were great. He wrote a few songs about me and I was done for. Our relationship overstayed its welcome but like I told you, it was easy for him and for me too I guess. Our breakup was bad, because I had still been under the impression that he was  _ the one _ for me but I opened my eyes, thankfully. He had been cheating on me for  _ months _ with girls because he just decided that being with a guy wasn't for him after all. Took him nearly two years to find that out. Sorry, I started rambling.”

“No, no, it's okay,” Zayn says. “Thanks for telling me. You didn't have to, it's quite personal.”

Harry looks at him and tries a smile. “You're supposed to be my boyfriend, you should know at least about one shitty ex, yeah?”

“You want me to return the favour?” Zayn laughs. “Because I do have a few shitty ones.”

Harry bites back the passive-aggressive remark, about the girl that he saw Zayn kissing at that frat party. “Sure, why not?”

“Well, one of my ex-girlfriends left me for a 40-year-old man,” Zayn chuckles. “It wasn't even a sugar daddy thing because she was already rich. Her name's Amanda. Last I heard about her she moved with him to Russia so God only knows what's happening with her now.”

“Jesus!” Harry guffaws. “You're shitting me.”

“No, I swear,” Zayn laughs. “It was like, last year, I think. I don't think it's ever gonna stop haunting me.”

“What about that blonde girl you dated around the time we met?” Harry asks either way. He can't help but wonder who was the girl that was not good enough to stay faithful for yet important enough that Zayn went back to her.

Zayn looks at Harry with furrowed brows. “You know about Gigi?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Harry clears his throat awkwardly. “You brought her to one of Niall's parties once.”

“Oh,” Zayn's voice trails off. “We're still friends, Gigi and I. She dropped out because of modelling and we stopped dating then but we keep in touch. We had coffee like a week ago.”

“Why not stay together then?” Harry prods.

Zayn chuckles. “She's gay. We've known each other for a long time and we started dating just to try it out. She always jokes that she was into me because I'm too pretty for a guy and that I'm good at, ehm, oral but that's a bit too much oversharing and you absolutely didn't need that information. Whatever, point is, we've known each other for ages and no one knows a fucking thing about themselves at the start of college.”

Harry doesn't even know what to say, his mind working at around a million miles per second. He didn't need the mental image of that. Zayn casually talking about his  _ oral skills _ when Harry hasn't fucked anyone in months is depressing and frustrating. So Harry just chuckles, yawning fakely.

“I think I'm gonna call it a night,” Harry yawns again. “Thanks for a contribution in the shitty and not-so-shitty exes segment. Goodnight, Zayn.”

“Night, Harry,” Zayn says. They turn their backs to each other and that's a day over, even if Harry actually can't sleep for a long time afterwards, his mind ridden with the images of his and Zayn's first encounter and the imaginary ones prompted by Zayn's bit of oversharing. It's gonna be a long night for Harry, that's for sure.

xxx

Harry feels like it's too damn early when he wakes up. The sun is barely peeking through the curtains but somehow, he feels rested enough. He's usually a morning person but after those shitty few weeks of finals, he seemed to sleep for more and more time each day as the exhaustion caught up with him.

But not only does he feel well-rested, he feels an arm wrapped around his waist and it takes a lot for Harry not to freak out. He clearly remembers falling asleep with him and Zayn back to back. How the fuck did he not wake up when at some point during the night, Zayn wrapped an arm around his waist and their legs got tangled together?

Harry stops freaking out and starts to think about what to do about this situation. Is he supposed to wake Zayn and tell him to move? Should he just slink out of bed and act like nothing happened? When he thinks about it, he's not exactly uncomfortable. Zayn is warm and the weight of his arm is comforting. But then Harry realizes that this is very weird. It's one thing unconsciously cuddling someone but knowingly staying in this situation when you're scarcely friends just feels creepy.

So instead, Harry very, very carefully gets out of bed and goes to take a shower in the en-suite. When he's finished, Zayn is still in deep sleep so Harry decides to leave him be and go downstairs. He doesn't look like much of a morning person either way.

Once he gets downstairs, he finds his mom already in the kitchen, a cup of coffee on the counter as she prepares things to decorate gingerbread cookies.

“Morning, mom,” Harry says, his voice still rough, kissing her on the cheek before he goes to the coffee maker. He pours himself a cup before grabbing one of the pastries on the counter.

“Morning, sweetie,” Anne chirps. “You wanna decorate these with me? Or are you planning to do something with Zayn?”

Harry nearly scoffs. “We've nothing planned. I'd love to help you.” He snacks on two croissants and some other thing that has raisins in it as he moves around the kitchen, automatically helping with the things and putting the whole picture together. He and Gemma have been doing this with their mom ever since they were little kids. It's like he's on autopilot now.

“Is he still in bed?” Anne wonders as they fill piping bags with white and coloured icing.

“Yep,” Harry nods. “Not big on mornings.”

“Are you happy with him, darling?” Anne asks out of nowhere as she decorates a gingerbread man. Harry watches her in confusion, icing leaking from his piping bag as Anne draws some glasses on the cookie.

“Why would you ask that, mom?” Harry wonders, slightly panicked.

Anne straightens her back, sighing. “You two were acting a bit off during dinner last night.”

“No,” Harry says quickly. God, if his cover is blown he's fucked. “We're fine. It was just a lot lately with college and stuff. We're fine, honestly. He loves me so much, it's nothing like with Logan. We talk and spend time together and we have a lot of things in common. We both… like tattoos a lot. And animals! Did you know he donates to pet charities and shelters?”

“Sweetheart,” Anne gives him a slight smile. “I'm not doubting that Zayn isn't a good guy. He's a very nice fella. I was just wondering if you had any troubles. You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?”

Harry looks at her for a moment, a crease between his brows. “Yeah, of course. But we're fine, mom, I promise. We're really happy together.”

“Then I'm more than happy,” Anne smiles at him and goes back to the gingerbread.

Harry feels fucking awful for lying to his mom. There is nothing more he wants than to tell her the truth. Just tell her that none of this is real, that he and Zayn are not even friends, not really. That he's honestly  _ fine _ after Logan, even if he hasn't dated anyone since. But she worries about him so much because yeah, Harry was a mess for a while but he's not anymore. So this is essentially a harmless lie. In a few months, or next Christmas, his mom will remember Zayn only as the nice boyfriend Harry brought over for holiday that one year and this charade won't be anything more than a footnote in the whole story. But in the meantime, Harry has to keep his cover.

As time goes on, his dad and grandma come into the kitchen, Gemma eventually joining them as well. Evelyn and Des watch some god-awful Christmas film on TV while Gemma's too preoccupied with her laptop. Harry's back is starting to hurt from being hunched over the cookies but he can't complain.

Zayn stumbles down around eleven in the morning. Harry was suspicious that he was just staying in the room for as long as he could, away from Harry and his family but when Zayn gets to the kitchen, he's truly barely awake and his hair is still a bit damp from the shower, lying flat against his forehead instead of the quiff he was sporting yesterday. He looks more vulnerable than he always does, more approachable, younger. Harry's a bit perplexed at the sight.

So Harry pulls him into a kiss, a proper one, not the silly pecks from before. He needs to prove that this is real, even if it isn't. There can't be an ounce of suspicious if this is supposed to work. They stop once only Gemma yells at them to get a room.

“Morning,” Harry tells Zayn as he lets him go. “It's nearly lunch now, Sleeping Beauty.”

Zayn looks at him suspiciously for a while before shaking his head and just going with it. “Need my beauty sleep, baby. You can thank me later.”

Harry grins to himself. They're getting better at this. Broadway's got nothing on them.

xxx

To further ease the suspicion, Harry volunteers to go do some last-minute shopping in the town along with Zayn. Normally, he would never willingly spend time with Zayn alone if he didn't have to but if they were actually dating, they would want to get away, right? Harry knows that if this was real, he would want to show Zayn around the small town nearby with its quaint main road and neighbours that say hi to each other in the street. One wouldn't believe such a place was just over an hour away from New York but it is.

So around one in the afternoon, they bundle up to shield themselves from the snow, Harry grabs Zayn's hand and hauls him away from the cabin into the town. It's quite a short walk thanks to a shortcut through a small patch in the forest.

“Are you taking me out here to murder me and say that I was mauled by bears?” Zayn asks once they reach the tree line. Their gloved hands are still linked together. Harry doesn't pay it much attention.

“No, I'm selling you to the local witch for eternal youth,” Harry retorts. “She's gonna eat you and I'll be young forever.”

“That's a good deal,” Zayn quips. “What if we kidnap some children in town instead? I wanna get in on it. Besides, I don't think I'd taste that good.”

“Well, that's not for me to decide,” Harry chuckles. “The witch is gonna eat you, not me.”

“How far is this town?” Zayn asks then. Harry narrowly avoids falling over a tree branch as he strains his neck to see the end of the path. It's close, he can see the church's spire already.

“Just a little longer,” Harry replies. “Five minutes, tops. But I have to warn you, city boy, this is no Manhattan. There's no Starbucks and Trader Joe's.”

Zayn scoffs. “Thank god there aren't those. If they were, I'd be really worried about just how fucked up the consumerism is in this country.”

“Don't start philosophizing on me,” Harry teases him. “We're nearly there.”

It takes them just a few minutes to get to the main street. Brooks Falls is truly small but the community here is great. Coming here always feels like home, for some reason. The atmosphere of those small shops littering the only street in town with proper sidewalks permeates your skin and doesn't leave. There is even a small bookstore, its walls seemingly soaked in the smell of books and coffee. With snow covering everything around them and still falling down without any intention to stop, the window displays with their Christmas lights and trees call out invitingly.

“This is cute,” Zayn remarks as they walk down a sidewalk, headed for the only grocery store in town. “Very Sweet Home Alabama. The rom-coms here practically write themselves.”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, right? Walking down here, it feels like I'm gonna be a witness to a meet-cute at any moment.”

They don't fuss around at the grocery store, quickly getting the stuff that Harry's mom wrote down on a list and then they head to the checkout. Clive, the owner who's usually at the till, recognizes Harry right away. Harry's known him basically his whole life. Clive is now old and grey, but still has the same enthusiasm that he had when Harry was a boy coming here with his mom, begging for that huge bubblegum Clive had in a jar by the till.

“Hello, Harry,” Clive smiles at him while scanning the stuff from the belt. “Here for the holidays already?”

“Hey, Clive,” Harry greets him. “Yeah, we got here yesterday. Mom sent us out to get a few things for tomorrow she forgot. How's Nancy doing? I heard she had some trouble with her hip. Really sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, she's better now,” Clive nods. “Had a surgery. She's up and runnin' now. How's that school of yours? And you brought a new fella with you, I see?”

Harry exchanges a brief look with Zayn. His cheeks have a pink tint on them and Harry doesn't think it's from the cold. A small smile appears on his lips before he turns to Clive again. “Yeah. Got myself a new fella.” Harry bites his lip a little to stop himself from grinning. “And college is great, I'm graduating in June.”

“That's good,” Clive drawls, putting a hand on his hip. “I would swear you were runnin' round here with your sister, fightin' about scooters and whatnot last week. Time's a tricky bastard, eh? That'll be $23.45 total, please.”

“We still bicker like that, trust me,” Harry chuckles as he hands Clive the cash. “Keep the change. And tell Nancy I said hi. Merry Christmas!”

They walk out of the warmth of the grocery store, each with tote bags of groceries with them. It's still snowing and their breath immediately turns into mist. The snow creaks underneath their boots as they walk in silence, no longer holding hands as they did when they got here.

“How long have you been coming here?” Zayn asks Harry after a too-long moment of quiet.

“My whole life, basically,” Harry replies. “We also come here in summer. There's a small lake near our house. This time of year, it's frozen over and great for ice skating. None of that Central Park crowded bullshit.”

“That's really nice,” Zayn says, his voice tinged with something Harry can't quite put his finger on. “My family always just goes… somewhere. It's never the same. I mean, yeah it's nice seeing so many places but there was never any sense of stability in it. I'm like the only introvert in a family full of extroverts who can't sit still, even if it doesn't seem like it so it was a bit shitty sometimes.”

Harry furrows his brows, looking at Zayn. “You really don't seem like an introvert.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn lets out a chuckle. “I'm just used to  _ acting _ like an extrovert.”

“You might be an ambivert,” Harry muses. “Somewhere in the middle of it all.”

“Is that a bookstore?” Zayn ignores Harry's suggestion.

Harry looks across the street at  _ Rosie's Petals _ . “Yep. It's a bookstore. Don't think it's open.”

“No, it is,” Zayn squints at it. “Yeah, they're open. You mind going?”

Harry looks at him for a while, not having a valid reason not to agree. “Why not?”

They cross the street without looking out for any cars. It's a day before Christmas, there's not gonna be anyone driving. Not that many cars drive around here the rest of the year.

Inside the bookstore, there's a girl Harry's never seen at the counter. She gives them a quick look from behind her book and goes back to reading. It might be Rosie's niece. Rosie has always been a staple in this bookstore but even she's getting older and Harry's not surprised that she's handed down at least part of her duties to someone younger. 

“You wanna get something?” Harry asks Zayn as they wander around the small store. Its bookshelves are old but charming, the shelves bent from decades of weight on them. There are old books and new, a fascinating mix that would look mannered, artificial in Manhattan but here, it's just how it is. Harry's sometimes overwhelmed with gratitude that Brooks Falls hasn't been discovered by bloggers and influencers yet.

“Yeah, probably,” Zayn mumbles, grabbing a book from the self. “I wanted to bring something to read but I forgot. Have you read this?”

Harry looks at the book Zayn's holding up. Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari. “No, I haven't. But I've read the first one. Sapiens, I think. This is probably the sequel.”

“Oh, okay,” Zayn frowns and puts the book back. He touches the spines of a few books with the tips of his fingers before pulling out another book. “A Court of Thorns and Roses. I'm getting this one.”

“Isn't that like… young adult fantasy?” Harry furrows his brows. Zayn doesn't look like the type to read YA novels.

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn quips and starts slowly walking towards the checkout. “These kind of books aren't the most well-written books ever but they're fun and often they have an interesting plot. It's good to escape our painfully mundane world. Wouldn't you like to like, I don't know, ride a dragon sometimes or have magic?”

Harry stops for a second to think, both shocked at what just came out of Zayn's mouth and to find an answer. Zayn looks too composed and collected to be someone who reads fantasy books. Perhaps Harry truly doesn't know him at all. “Yeah, I mean,” Harry gets out eventually. “I used to read these when I was younger. But since college, I don't know, I started reading different things. A lot of non-fiction for my degree too.”

“What do you do for fun then?” Zayn turns around to Harry.

Harry stops walking before he slams into Zayn. He's a bit lost for words. “I watch movies?” Harry tries. “I go out quite a bit. I like an art show. Or a good concert.”

“That's fair,” Zayn nods. “I do like an art show too. But these days it's hard to find something actually worthwhile, you know? I don't care much for a bunch of people doing what they call performance art and like, yelling in a rhythm and calling it slam poetry, or whatever.” He turns back around and walks slowly towards the register, but then starts talking to Harry again. “I like London in terms of art. All their state galleries and museums are free entry and they've got incredible collections. Have you ever been?”

“No,” Harry holds back the scoffs. Sure, he's just going to London every other weekend to look at fucking paintings.

“Well, if you ever find yourself there, check out the National Gallery,” Zayn says over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his lips. “If you were actually my boyfriend I would say I'd take you there but well, all you get is my recommendation. I love Van Gogh's crabs.”

Harry lets out a laugh. His heart speeds up for some reason. “Okay, thanks.” He waits for Zayn by the entrance, the girl at the till giving him a weird look before they leave. Rosie is way nicer. She used to give him candy every time he came around.

“Do you need anything else or should we head back?” Harry asks Zayn when they're on the sidewalk again.

“No, I'm fine, I think,” Zayn replies. “If I forgot anything I'm not gonna remember it now, so we can go back. It's freezing.”

“Yeah, I'm not too keen on being outside longer than I have to,” Harry agrees.

They chat a bit while walking, about finals and whatnot. Harry had decided to push at least some of his passive-aggressiveness into a corner and leave it there. It's been years since that damned night and obviously, Zayn doesn't care or doesn't remember or pretends like nothing happened, like he has for the past two years, for the sake of being normal around each other. Holding onto a grudge like this is not very productive, especially since it's tragically one-sided. He can  _ try _ being nicer to Zayn, especially since Zayn has been nothing but really fucking nice to both Harry and his family. It's only fair, he reckons.

When they get back, it's almost dark and there's another car in the driveway.

“Oh shit,” Harry says when he sees the red Ford. “My aunt's here with her family.”

“Okay?” Zayn shakes his head a little. “Is she horrible?”

“No,” Harry sighs. “She's nice. My cousins are menaces, though. Do you remember their names?”

Zayn takes a moment to think. “I know the aunt Betty. Her husband is Paul, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods.

“So then your cousins are Jane and Matt,” Zayn finishes. “Did I get that right?”

“Yes,” Harry sighs in relief. “I fucking love you in this moment. No, that's not true. But Logan always forgot their names and both times he came here, he was calling Matt  _ Mark _ . But Matt went with it and just laughed about it. If he introduces himself as Mark, don't take him seriously, he's only teasing.”

Zayn lets out a huff. “Harry, you really need to start dating better people. Was Logan a succubus or something? Did he have a magic dick?”

Harry's face starts burning but a smile is threatening to break out on his face despite the shame. “No! We all make stupid decisions, okay? What we're doing right now is one of them too but at least we can blame Niall on it. It was his idea.”

“This is funny, at least,” Zayn nudges Harry. “But dating an asshole isn't.”

“Okay, I get it,” Harry laughs as they walk up the steps to the front door. “I have poor taste in men. Your being here attests to that.”

“Excuse you, I'm a  _ wonderful _ boyfriend,” Zayn huffs with false offence. “Also, I haven't even seen this Logan. If he's hideous, Harry, then you have no excuse.”

“Alright, Mr Versace model,” Harry chuckles. “Be that  _ wonderful _ boyfriend and charm the hell out of my family. And don't flirt with Jane, I'm warning you.”

“Don't worry, I'll only flirt with your mom,” Zayn winks at Harry, who just glares at him before opening the door.

“We're back!” Harry yells as they come in, immediately taking off their snow-soaked coats and boots. They take the groceries to the kitchen, which is empty and then make their way to the living room, where a lot of noise is coming from. And indeed, everyone's in the living room, including Evie.

They stop in the doorway, trying to catch the attention of someone since all of them seem to be engrossed in a conversation or two.

“Oh, Harry,” his aunt Betty eventually notices him and Zayn. “You're here! Your mom said you and your boyfriend went out.”

“Just to get some things,” Harry dismisses it. “We're here now. What's up?” Harry moves to walk into the living before he freezes at Jane's “Ah, ah, ah”

“What?” Harry squawks. “Are you having a stroke?”

Jane shakes her head. “Look up. Mistletoe, dumbass. You gotta give your man a smooch, that's the rule.”

Harry rolls his eyes before he turns to Zayn. “I'm sorry,” Harry whispers, thinking about that kiss from the morning. Zayn never mentioned it but they're not really dating. Kissing out of nowhere is way more than whatever they agreed to.

Zayn just gives him a minuscule shake of his head and grabs his cheek. Harry's lungs suddenly stop working as Zayn inches closer and closer until their lips touch again. In the kitchen a few hours ago, Harry barely registered the kiss. He was thinking more about putting on a good show for his mom, and for every but right now, even with more people watching them, Harry feels like it's only them in the room. His lips open on their own accord and to his surprise, Zayn mirrors him and slips his tongue in Harry's mouth. It's probably a bit too much for a family occasion but Harry can't pull away, feeling like he has no control of his own jaw and tongue, which keep them locked in the kiss. Harry then realizes he snaked his hands around Zayn's neck and he knows he's in trouble.

But Zayn's lips are warm and he's a really great fucking kisser and the weight of his hand on Harry's cheek feels like an anchor keeping Harry from floating away and there's just no way he can pull away. Harry pulls their bodies closer and then it's over. His dick starts to get interested and that's too much. This isn't what this whole thing is about. For all Harry knows, Zayn can have a girlfriend waiting for him in Manhattan, just like he had Gigi in the living room when they were together in the dim bathroom.

So Harry pulls away like he's been burnt and clears his throat. He can't look at Zayn, scared of what he's gonna find but he has a faint idea about red, kissed lips and eyes he could get lost in. And that's not what he needs, or wants.

His entire family is giving them a weird look and Harry feels his face turning bright red. The awkward silence is broken when Jane starts clapping and Matt wolf-whistles.

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mumbles as he walks to an empty loveseat and throws himself down on it. Despite that, a smile breaks out into his face. If this is a game and if there's a score, this definitely deserves double points.


	2. ii.

The next morning, it's time to decorate the main tree in the living room. Despite how much he loves Christmas, having more than five people decorate the one and the same tree is more than annoying. When they were all kids, it was better as only the adults bickered about what should go where but now everyone's a bit too opinionated. So generally, Harry stays out of it as much as he can. He warns Zayn about the _war of the tree_ , as he likes to call it and they retreat to a loveseat as far from the tree as they can. Evie keeps them entertained and seemingly too preoccupied to decorate, as they play with her and drink coffee.

Harry sort of gets lost in it. The awkwardness and the reluctance to relax and accept the situation has disappeared. This is what it is. No matter how Harry tries to put it in his head, he and Zayn are pretending to be boyfriends. He doesn't have to be miserable about it just because they did a dumb thing as college freshmen. They _are_ friends, even despite Harry's prolonged grudge. Sure, they never hung out on their own and texted, not really, but they've hung out with the same group of people at the same time on too many instances not to be friends. Harry considers people he knows less friends so he can uncomplicate this situation without feeling stupid.

He and Zayn are just friends, hanging out together over Christmas. Sure, they might kiss for show and somehow find themselves wrapped around each other in the bed in the morning but that doesn't change the basis of this. Harry doesn't have to be a dickhead about it, which he absolutely was. Zayn agreed to spend Christmas with a bunch of strangers and a loosely-termed friend so the least Harry can do for him is not be a bitch to him.

So far, they've been having a nice morning, ignoring the tree battle and playing with Evie when Harry's cousins slink towards them and eventually sit down on the carpet at their feet and try to lure Evie away from them.

“What are you two plotting?” Harry asks immediately because there's never something these two don't want. “If it includes my cat then forget about it.”

“We're not plotting anything,” Jane rolls her eyes. “We just wanna hang out with the only young people here. Right, Mark?”

“Of course, Janet,” Matt grins. “So, Zayn, has Harry told you about the 4th of July last year? It's such a _great_ story.”

“No fucking way,” Harry sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I knew you guys would do this.”

Zayn gives Harry an amused look. “No, he hasn't. And by the way, I know your names are Jane and Matt. I know about Logan.”

“Oh,” Jane raises her brows at Harry, wiggling them. “Harry's not dating a complete asshole! I genuinely didn't think I'd see the day. Welcome to the family, Zayn.”

Harry scoffs and shakes his head. “We're not getting married, Jane.”

“You might as well,” Matt answers for her. “You won't score anyone better. Anyway, back to the Fourth of July 2018.”

Harry whines and closes his eyes as he has to listen to the retelling of the story when he got spectacularly drunk, jumped into the lake naked and got his dick bitten by a catfish. He would much prefer they'd tell some embarrassing stories from his childhood, because there are plenty and he wasn't an adult when he did all that dumb shit.

Zayn laughs at the story, but doesn't tease Harry about it, much to the dismay of his cousins. He does, however, put his hand on Harry's knee and say, “Well, I'm glad he didn't get any permanent damage from that bite, yeah?”

Harry's eyes shoot open at that. He _knows_ Zayn doesn't truly mean it but Harry still looks at him, mildly perplexed. Zayn just winks at him, his hand a warm weight on Harry's knee. It feels like there is half the universe instead of a single hand, chaining him down and burning through his skin at the same time.

“Oh my god,” Harry says eventually, looking down at his cousins. “You guys are the _worst._ Just wait until you bring around your boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever entities that are stupid enough to date you. I've many more embarrassing stories about you than you two do about me.”

Harry then stands up, pulling Zayn up with him. He grabs Evie too and drags them along to his room.

“Wait, you don't need to show me your dick is really working,” Zayn laughs on the stairs. “Or, I mean, you're hot-”

“God, shut up,” Harry's face goes red. “Not you too. Contrary to popular belief, I don't sleep with people willy-nilly.”

“Technically, we _have_ been sleeping together,” Zayn remarks as they enter the bedroom. “Just sleeping, though.”

Harry lets Evie jump out of his arms before he plops down on the bed. “I wanna look through some of my papers for my internship and I didn't want you to be stranded there with my family. They would just interrogate you and since you're not my actual boyfriend, you don't need to go through all that.”

“It's fine, Haz. But thanks,” Zayn says, sitting down next to him. “However, it's nice that your family actually cares about who you decide to share your heart with and that they're so supportive of you. Even your granny didn't blink at the fact that you're dating a man.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sighs as he reaches for the folder in his bedside table. “I'm really lucky. And I'm aware of that. You know, this whole thing is part of the exercises I have for the support group. Would you mind trying it out with me?”

Zayn's expression is clouded, the easy cheer gone from it for a while. Nevertheless, he gives Harry a small close-lipped smile and agrees. They move to the centre of the bed, sitting crossed-legged opposite each other, Harry's papers spread around them.

“Okay, so to continue,” Harry starts off again, looking at a sheet of bullet-pointed instructions to one of his first talking points with the support group. “This support group, workshop, whatever they call it, it's basically centred around coming out and accepting yourself and dealing with internalized homophobia, biphobia, each to their own. I plan to start encouraging people with my own story, I think it could help? But I haven't tested this in practice yet, my course leader only went over the notes and plans I've prepared so if you think this is an absolute load of bullshit, please tell me.”

“Sure, I'll tell you if you're talking shit,” Zayn tries a soft chuckle. “An outsider's view might help.”

“Exactly,” Harry nods, clearing his throat nervously. “So, I came out when I was fourteen which some people thought, and still think is a bit early. But… I wasn't a shy kid, I was never… reluctant to try things. When I was around thirteen, all my friends started kissing girls, having those first middle-school girlfriends that make you feel so damn grown-up so of course, I wanted to get in on it as well. So I kissed two girls, took one to a school dance and I just didn't feel anything. But I knew I felt different things when I was looking at shirtless guys in ads, in movies, even in gym class even though the selection of guys was rather shabby.

“Then, when I was fourteen, I went to a summer camp for two weeks and I met a guy. His name was Jacob and well, fourteen-year-old me thought he was gorgeous. We got on really well, even if he was already almost sixteen. And one day, when we were walking down a creek, I asked him if he has ever dated anyone and he said he did so I asked what was her name and he said “John”. And then I kissed him. Nothing came out of it, because Jacob said I wasn't his type but that was enough for me to know… that I was gay. And suddenly, I was terrified of telling anyone. From pop culture and social media and everywhere, really, coming out was this _huge_ thing in one's life and it's a hurdle. I was a ball of anxiety for two months, constantly scared my family's gonna find out and they're gonna kick me out or send me to one of those weird Christian camps for gay people to convert them until one day, I just said fuck it and told Gemma. As any older sibling, she smacked my head first and then hugged me and told me that it's okay, that she still loves me and that I shouldn't be scared.

“Now I know not everyone has this experience. But my parents were very understanding and supportive too. I told them a few days after I had told Gemma and they just hugged me and told me they loved me no matter what. I know I'm one of the few people who had a positive experience with coming out to their family but I can't change it.” Harry groans in frustration and rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck, Zayn, I can't start like this, can I? These are gonna be kids who are _struggling_ with coming out, and accepting themselves and I'm just gonna walk in there and say, _oh, my family didn't even bat an eyelash, they were supportive and my boyfriends are always welcome at our house_. Fucking hell.”

“Well,” Zayn clicks his tongue. “Personally, I don't mind it. I'm glad your family is supportive. I had a _quite_ different experience and if I were a few years younger, I'd probably storm out of the room and call you a dick.”

Harry's taken aback. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugs. “I mean, I'm not gay. I'm bi, I guess. But my dad still vehemently ignores that part of my sexuality. I told my mom when I was around eighteen and she was fine with it. My sisters too, they didn't really care who I was dating as long as it wasn't a complete piece of shit. But my dad was a different story. It took so much courage to tell my dad, I literally had my mom waiting in the hallway in case he started yelling at me. He didn't, thankfully. But he barely looked up from some things he was working on. And then he just started ignoring it. I brought a boyfriend home once, last year and he called him 'my friend' the whole fucking time. It was so fucking embarrassing. We broke up quickly after that. Not to mention even trying to accept that I actually like dick too.”

Harry is frankly lost for words. He never expected Zayn to open up about a sensitive topic like this. They're not that close. And Harry would _never_ expect for Zayn, someone who seems so aloof and sure of himself to struggle with such a menial thing as sexuality. But things aren't always what they seem, are they?

“That's um, that's kinda the main focus of the support group,” Harry manages to get out then, looking down between the papers, its words seemingly bleeding all together into one big mess. “Most of the kids there aren't even out, or if they are, they still struggle to accept who they are and to be out, even if they wouldn't have many obstacles in the process itself. Like, some of these kids, I've been told, are out to their families and their families _are_ supportive but they still struggle with coming to terms with their sexuality.” Harry then braves himself to look at Zayn, who doesn't look mad, or upset in any way, just vaguely bored. “Would you mind if I asked you something?”

“Um,” Zayn clears his throat. “I don't think so? Go ahead.”

“Okay,” Harry takes a deep breath, taking a little respite in the papers before looking at Zayn again. He can't avoid such an elemental thing as eye contact while talking about such personal and sensitive things. “How did you get through all of it? I mean, accepting yourself and being okay with it?”

Zayn hums, his eyes going to Evie, who started making her way down to his lap. She settles herself there and Zayn starts to pet her automatically. That cat really is a traitor, Harry thinks briefly.

“I just got to a point where I was going delusional about it,” Zayn ends up saying, his eyes at Harry again. “I mean, your dick doesn't get hard watching naked Jake Gyllenhaal in a film if you're straight? You don't have an urge to kiss a guy who randomly starts flirting with you at a party if you're straight. So I went ahead and kissed a few guys, had sex with a few and I was like 'yeah, I like this and so what?'. I've never been particularly religious, even if I was raised around religion so that whole bit about going to hell doesn't concern me, not really. I knew I liked girls too and I think that kinda helped me. But in the end, I just accepted myself for who I am, just generally in life, as I got older. I surrounded myself with friends who didn't want me to change, who accepted me as I was and the sexuality thing just came organically after that. When my dad was generally being a dick about it I had doubts, because I do want his approval, I want him to be proud of me but if he can't accept that his only son sometimes sucks dick, then it's not really my problem, is it? That's on him.”

Harry lets out a heavy breath, one he didn't even know he was holding. “I'm sorry.”

“Nah, it's okay,” Zayn shakes his head a little. “I mean, to some extent I might've started to get involved in charities to maybe compensate for disappointing my dad a little? But mostly, I just took a social studies and philosophy class in high school and realized that if we don't start redistributing our wealth and caring about climate change we're all gonna fucking die.”

“You wanted to do environmental law,” Harry remembers suddenly, his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I did,” Zayn nods, looking down at Evie in his lap. “I guess dropping it was a part of that whole, wanting my dad to be proud of me thing. But I don't mind. I can still help even if it's not my profession. I can donate to charities, maybe invest in some companies that are doing some great sustainable things.”

Harry can't help the small smile that appears on his face. “You're our very own New Yorker Greta whatsherface girl.”

“She's on a whole another level,” Zayn laughs. “I could never do all that.”

“Maybe not,” Harry lets on. “But at least you're doing something. And that counts.”

“I guess,” Zayn shrugs a shoulder. “But does it even matter if all those fucking corporations don't change a single thing? If China and India and whoever else keep disregarding UN resolutions about carbon emissions and shit? At this point, we deserve mass extinction. Just, fuck us up, Mother Nature.”

Harry laughs. “It's all fucked up. Like, all politics. I stopped following it closely because it was driving me insane.”

“Right?” Zayn's eyes go wide. Harry can't help but notice a certain spark in them, something he doesn't think he's ever seen with. “There aren't even any better options. Like, the election for next year? We can't choose one fucking democrat to lead the race and what's gonna happen? That fucking racist cheeto will get re-elected again and everyone who isn't a straight, white, Christian male will be fucked. I mean, ugh.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry sighs sadly. His eyes go to Evie, who's blissfully napping in Zayn's lap. “I wish I was a cat. Those little lazy fucks don't do shit.”

“Same,” Zayn chuckles, his hand in Evie's fur. “I need to get a cat after graduation.”

“You should,” Harry agrees. “I'm taking Evie with me into the city too. I know the housing market is shit but I'm determined to find a place where pets are allowed.”

Zayn looks up at him then, an idea clearly forming on his face. “You know what? I live in an apartment now, not school housing and my friend and roommate, Archie, he's moving out after graduation. He's moving to Boston. I was thinking about finding someone to replace him. He has a dog now. If you're okay with the rent and location, and living with me, of course, maybe I can give my landlord a call? We're friends, after all.”

“Yeah,” Harry drawls. Sure, they're friends but this can't be a good idea. After roughly two weeks of fake dating and their past, Harry's not sure he would be able to see Zayn every single day. Zayn _is_ really nice, and a good fucking person it turns out, but it would be too weird for Harry. He's not normally good friends with people whose lips he's tasted one too many times. “We'll see. I still don't have a job lined up, obviously, so I can't be sure about the rent and either way, Niall was talking about finding a place together in Brooklyn, so.”

“No, of course,” Zayn says quickly, a friendly smile on his lips. “It was just a suggestion. No worries. Show me those papers you have there. I'll be your voice of reason and a sexuality-crisis survivor consultant for today.”

Harry smiles at Zayn as he hands him the papers and yeah, this could work. They can be friends.

xxx

They don't really leave the room until late afternoon, when it's time for the Christmas dinner. With their matching, hastily bought H&M Christmas sweaters on, they stumble down the stairs while hysterically laughing about the snowmen on the sweaters, whose noses light up and look like a dildo simultaneously. With lingering laughter, they walk into the kitchen, wondering if they can be of use.

“Oh, shit,” Zayn pulls his phone out. “It's my mom. I'll be right back.”

Just for the dramatics of a performance, Harry quickly leaves a kiss on Zayn's lips before he leaves, getting a timid smile out of Zayn as he goes out the back door.

“You two kinda disappeared today,” Anne comments as Harry starts milling around the kitchen, more being a nuisance than helping with anything.

“I wanted to prepare some stuff for the support group,” Harry explains. “Plus, Matt and Jane were being annoying. I got a lot of work done. Zayn helped me rethink my strategy a little bit.”

“That's sweet,” Anne says offhandedly. Harry leans against the counters, looking out of the window to see Zayn walking around while talking on his phone. He laughs about something and Harry finally doesn't feel too guilty about dragging Zayn here instead of him being in the Swiss Alps. It's not like Zayn would've gone either way but still.

“You know,” Anne joins Harry at the counter where Harry's stalking a little, a tea towel in her hands. “I had my doubts about you two, but I think you're really good for each other. You look really happy, Harry and I'm so glad to see that.”

Harry looks at his mom, trying to keep a straight face in the midst of his elaborate lies. “Thanks, mom.”

“I hope this lasts because I feel like Zayn could be good for you, long-term,” Anne continues. “That boy looks at you like you hung the moon. And he's _so lovely_. Maybe it's just the stark contrast with your previous boyfriends but… I really hope this lasts. I know, I know. You're both young and things change so fast and you want to try new things but when you find something good, you should hold onto it. Or him, in this case. It's just my observation. Do with it as you like, sweetie.”

“I like him,” Harry says honestly, not meaning it as only a part of the game. “But I don't think this will last for too long. I just- I don't know. Have a feeling.”

Anne smiles at him and pats his cheek once. “I have a different feeling. Now come help me with the turkey.”

Harry tries to grin at her, which comes out probably as more of a weird face than anything.

Later, when they're all seated behind the table, having Christmas dinner, Harry finds himself looking at Zayn as he chats with Harry's family, laughing and exchanging stories like he's spent countless holidays with them already. His mind can't leave what his mom said earlier, even though Harry knows it's all based on a lie. They would never work, Harry knows it. They have a past that keeps lurking and lurking until Harry's slightly pissed off again. It's just a game, a performance that might end with them gaining a new, or rather a better friendship.

Still, watching Zayn just _fit_ with his family makes Harry think about his actual past relationships. The men he loved, or at least he thought he had loved and he realizes that one truly does get wiser with age.

Their eyes meet then, lips curled into a smile. And Harry gets then why they've fooled everyone. He truly does.

xxx

Christmas morning as a grown-up isn't nearly as exciting as when you're a kid. Back in the day, when Harry, Gemma and their cousins were kids, the house would've been already hustling and bustling with commotion, kids running out of bed in their pyjamas to open their presents as soon as they can. Ian and Judie have little kids, Nina and Lily are both under five but they don't really bring them over for the entire of the holidays. So now, since the youngest person in the house is Jane and at eighteen, she's legally an adult too, everyone gets to sleep in and gifts aren't really a worry.

As it's become custom over the past few days, Harry wakes up first, normally with Zayn's arm wrapped around his waist. They haven't really talked about this whole thing but neither of them mind. It's really just muscle memory from previous relationships, from the ease of simply sharing a bed with someone and finding solace in each other's embrace. They never wake up because of it, no matter the fact that they don't know each other well enough to be cuddling in bed. The magnetism of having another warm body in bed with you and being used to touching them, holding them is too strong.

This morning is a bit different though. Right as he comes to, Harry realizes that his dick is half-hard. He doesn't quite remember what he dreamed about but he doesn't think it was anything sexy or wet-dream-y, so he writes it off as just some unfortunate morning wood. When he goes to get out of bed, however, his ass makes contact with Zayn's crotch and Harry's a bit shocked to find that he's half-hard too. He's not sure if it's because of the early morning hour and the fact that he's not even fully awake yet, but Harry considers doing _something_ about it. Even Niall suggested it as he set this charade up. They're both hot, they both find each other hot so would it be so bad? To get each other off with quick handjobs and call it a day? It would be so easy for Harry to just grind back and wake Zayn up. He doubts Zayn would say no. After all, his previous experience doesn't tell him that he'd be very much against.

In a stroke of luck, Harry decides to get out of bed and take a shower instead of indulging in any kind of sexual activity. He considers jerking off but it hits him then, how fucked up it would be. How could he ever come up with that, god? Wasn't their encounter in their freshman year enough? Harry knows their potential friendship would be fucked and for what? For a handjob? Besides, it's fucking creepy. Dicks sometimes behave in a mysterious way, especially in the morning. It could be sexual harassment, actually.

When Harry gets out of the shower, his dick finally behaving, Zayn is already awake and rummaging through his bag.

“Morning,” Harry says, his eyes avoiding Zayn's in shame after his waking up experience. “What's up?”

“Good morning,” Zayn says back. “Nothing much, just being the world's worst Santa and taking out some presents out of my bag.”

Harry stops in his tracks, holding onto his towel. “You got presents?”

“Yeah?” Zayn shakes his head a little. “I'm not gonna show up to my pretend boyfriend's cabin and not bring presents, duh? I wasn't raised in a cave.”

“You didn't have to,” Harry says, his voice small. “I'll pay you back.”

Zayn scoffs. “Don't be ridiculous, Harry. What did I say about redistributing wealth? Besides, it's Christmas, it should be all about giving and friendship and all that good shit.”

“I can't argue with that,” Harry breathes out. “What did you even get them?”

“I won't tell you what you got, that's a surprise,” Zayn winks at him. “But I just got them some gift cards, can't go wrong with those. For your parents and aunt and her husband, it's just for a restaurant in Philly, I don't know what old people do for fun. Matt and Jane have Urban Outfitters and Granny Evelyn has Barnes & Noble. You're the only one _not_ getting a gift card.”

Harry's heart is doing gymnastics in his chest as he smiles. “They will actually disown me and adopt you, do you realize that? But thank you, that's incredibly thoughtful. I got you something too, by the way. And when we're back in New York, next time Niall drags us out, I'm getting you drinks the whole night.”

“Fine by me,” Zayn grins at him. “I'll hop in the shower before we go downstairs, yeah?”

“Sure,” Harry nods at him once. He sinks down on the bed once Zayn is in the en-suite and thinks about how could someone leave this guy for an old Russian oligarch?

xxx

They're the last ones to get downstairs. Harry's honestly surprised his cousins got up that early but at this point, nothing truly moves him. They each grab a cup of coffee from the conference table, put the gifts they brought under the tree and sit on the carpet as almost everyone else. While Harry loves Christmas and gift-giving, he really doesn't like waiting for each individual to open presents and have everyone react to it. So he's thankful his family doesn't do that shit. Everyone just gathers the stuff they that has their name on it and gets to opening.

A slight conflict breaks out when Matt calls out he's going to Venmo everyone a dollar later because he was too lazy to get gifts and Harry laughs at first, thinking it's a joke but when Betty pressures him to drop the act and he doesn't, well, that's a first one. No family is perfect and it's very well attested to as they open their gifts to the incredible soundtrack of Christmas music and Betty yelling at Matt how college has turned him into an irresponsible, lazy, selfish excuse of a man. Matt defends himself, saying he got a parking ticket and had to pay it with the money he had saved for gifts but Betty just says that it only proves her point.

“Alright, what did you get me, mister?” Harry says as he finally gets to Zayn's gift, which he left for last. It's a rectangular box, not too big and not too heavy, but definitely not a book or something like that.

“There's only one way to find out, yeah?” Zayn wiggles his brows at him, the gift Harry got him still unopened too. He got some generic presents that all of Harry's boyfriends got when they came over for Christmas because everyone here is better at Christmas than Matt. He's a good guy, truly, but last year he got everyone socks with various swear words on it. Even Evelyn got a pair, although she laughed, and while Harry admits it was quite funny, everyone put at _least_ some effort into gifts and this wasn't the best way to go about it.

When Harry unwraps the gift from Zayn, he finds a set of a leather notebook, two fancy fountain pens and some ink. “Oh my god,” Harry breathes out. “This is so lovely. Thank you, Zayn.”

“You're welcome,” Zayn gives him a smile. “Every psychologist should have some fancy stationery to… have at least some of that movie creepy factor, yeah?”

Harry grins. “Absolutely. I can't wait to hand out handwritten prescriptions with a dramatic flair. Well, I have a long way until that but at least I'll feel more like an adult at my internship. Now, go on, open yours. I really hope it fits.”

“If you got him sexy underwear we don't need that mental image, Harold,” Jane scoffs somewhere to Harry's left.

Zayn raises his brow at Harry jokingly as he opens the small box. Harry blushes a little because he's not sure if this is an appropriate gift. Before this trip, he didn't know that much about Zayn but he did know a thing or two about Zayn's style since it's impossible not to notice because he always looks like a damn model.

“You're not proposing, are you?” Zayn jokes when he eventually gets the ring out of his box. “If so, this is a _terrible_ choice.”

“Harry, I was joking when I said you two should get married,” Matt yells from somewhere in the room.

Harry only rolls his eyes because he and Zayn know that they're not even dating. But that doesn't stop Anne from giving him a pointed look from her perch on an armchair. While she approves of Harry's (fake) relationship, she would never forgive Harry for not telling her first and knowing his mother, Harry's sure she wouldn't be too keen on him getting engaged before even graduating college.

“Calm down, everyone,” Harry sighs. “It's just a ring. Jewellery. Zayn wears rings all the time. Show them.” He nudges Zayn with his knee and Zayn relents, holding his right hand up with three rings on his fingers.

“I mean, yeah, Harry's right,” Zayn chuckles. “Sorry to scare you or disappoint you, whichever you feel like fits.”

“I saw this and I thought you'd like it,” Harry says in a quiet voice, nodding at the silver ring with an aqua stone set on it. “There's this tiny store in Brooklyn, near a really good venue I like to go to, and they carry these indie brands from all over the country and also Europe. I love their stuff. They're all relatively cheap with real stones and bathed in silver or gold. I was getting a pair of earring for my mom and I saw this and I just- I figured I can't go wrong with this since you always wear rings and they're usually silver so, yeah. I mean, if you don't like it, we can return it or-”

“I love it,” Zayn interrupts him, sliding the ring on his pointer finger. “I've a similar one at home, so I'm not lying when I say I really like this one. Thank you.”

Harry's lips curl into a smile. “You're more than welcome. Does it fit?”

“Yeah, it's a good size,” Zayn nods, looking down at his hand. Then he looks up at Harry, a glint in his eyes. “So what's on the program today?”

Harry then grins like the Grinch himself.

xxx

It's snowball fights. While incredibly childish, it's still fun, even if Harry feels like his dick is going to freeze off after each year, someone eventually tries to suffocate him in the snow. There's always hot chocolate and tea inside, and a warm fireplace. His dick and immune system have survived so far so why ditch it when it's a fun way to waste at least an hour on Christmas day?

Harry's not a monster so he gives Zayn one of the spare North Face jackets that they've got in the mudroom because, in his fancy camel coat, Zayn would find himself with pneumonia by dinner. He looks like a friendly abominable snowman in the light grey jacket, and he complains about the cold for an eternity as Harry goes to pinch his cheeks like a grandma.

“C'mon, it's gonna be fun,” Harry grins at Zayn and pulls him outside, where Matt and Jane are already fooling around in the snow and probably preparing some kind of a trap for them.

“I know it's gonna be fun, it's just so fucking cold my nuts are gonna freeze off,” Zayn frowns. “I had half the mind to put on sweatpants but I don't know what you're gonna do in those jeans.”

Harry looks down at his black jeans and realizes he might've made a mistake. “Whatever,” he dismisses it and walks closer to where Matt and Jane are building a snow barricade. “We're gonna lose because of your whining. Look at those two.” Harry scoffs, shaking his head while watching his cousins. “Hey, guys! How did you just become a team? What if I wanted to team up with Jane?”

“You're weak, I don't want you on my team,” Jane yells back, only her eyes visible in the mounds of clothes. “You have your boyfriend. When you're on the verge of death, you can bring out Gemma as an extra life.”

“Gemma's not coming out,” Harry argues. “She said twenty-five is the cut-off age for this. She's an old person now.”

Instead of an answer, Harry's hit by a snowball straight into his chest. He gasps for a moment, before collecting himself. “Don't go soft on them, they have no soul,” Harry tells Zayn and immediately throws a snowball back at Jane and Matt.

This goes on for a while and the initial reluctance because of the cold disappears and is replaced by laughter. Harry's jeans are completely soaked through within minutes, as he makes the mistake of bending down a few times since he gets hit in the ass quite immediately. There is no clear winner because the snow barricade Jane and Matt made is frankly too small and also fall apart after a few minutes. And Harry's pleased to find Zayn has the same competitive streak as him and isn't at all bad at this. Harry tells him so and Zayn just smirks, saying that he does have three sisters after all and throws a snowball at Matt.

Eventually, Matt and Jane run away from their designated spot, trying to gain an advantage by hiding behind a pine tree. Harry can't let that slide and attempts to slow them down by a constant stream of snowballs while running after them. Then out of nowhere, he's hit in the face. His jaw drops in shock as he turns to Zayn.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” Zayn says, laughter trying to break through. “You got in my line of shot.”

Harry slowly wipes his face as a gangster would wipe off blood in an old film, trying to keep the smile from breaking as he starts walking towards Zayn, who's now fully laughing and possibly planning to run away. He should've, because Harry tackles him to a mound of snow and puts some on his stupidly perfect face. They don't stop laughing the entire time, even as Harry straddles Zayn's hips, both of them blindly throwing snow at each other.

“Okay, stop, stop, truce,” Zayn yells out, one of Harry's wrists in his grasp. “We're both essentially icicles now, we're even.”

“Okay,” Harry grins down at Zayn. He finds him with a matching smile, looking up at Harry with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. And then his head starts spinning because he _wants_ to lean down and kiss Zayn. Not for his mom, not for anyone else but for them. Harry's heart is beating out a marching song in his chest as he breathes heavily, looking down at Zayn's slight smile and the snow caught in his long eyelashes. 

He stumbles over his feet as he stands up, leaving Zayn in the snow with a somewhat perplexed look. “Think my mom saw us? This was good, yeah?” Harry says quickly, dusting himself off.

“Yeah,” Zayn says slowly, a line between his eyebrows. He clears his throat and gets up quickly. “So who won?”

“We won!” Jane yells as she runs past them, throwing more snow at them before she disappears inside, but not without poking through the back door and grinning at them. “You guys are hopeless. You'd rather make out than win a damn snowball fight. Honestly, just get married and retire to Florida like all old people.”

Harry sighs, watching as the door shuts behind her. “I think my dick really did freeze off this time,” Harry laments without turning to Zayn.

“I feel like I have frostbite on 80% of my body,” Zayn retorts. “Should we go inside before we die here?”

“Please,” Harry breathes out. There is nothing more he wants than a hot tub right now but a warm shower and some tea could suffice.

xxx

Later that evening, after dinner, Harry's stuck washing the dishes with Gemma because apparently, it's their turn even if Harry complains about not feeling his fingers after that snow fight. That doesn't help his case but at least there is enough kindness in the world and he only has to dry the dishes.

“So,” Gemma says not too long into dish-washing. “You're dating one of the sexiest men in Manhattan it seems. How did you end up with the son of one of the most influential men in New York?”

Harry throws his sister a weird look. He doesn't like where this is going. “You know Zayn's dad?”

“Not really,” Gemma dismisses it. “Our firm has dealt with some of their things and my team was invited to a function they had this year. You never really mentioned Zayn. Someone like him, I'd expect you'd flaunt it in my face the first time you got your hands on him.”

“Well, I can have secrets, can't I?” Harry tries to play it cool, continuing to dry the dishes even if he feels Gemma burning him down with her gaze. She knows him better than everyone. Harry's not at all shocked to see his cover slipping away with her.

“H, you tell me even about every single hook up you have,” Gemma sighs softly. “I don't buy that you could date a guy like Zayn for half a year and not tell anyone.”

Harry dries one more plate before he sighs, setting the tea towel down and looking at his sister. “Fine, we're not together. Are you happy?”

“No, I'm not,” Gemma says pointedly. “Because the second I saw you two I knew something was off. I saw you today, in the snow. How you almost started making out. Good job, by the way, with the mistletoe and all those other times. Mom has been going off about how great you two are together.”

“Thanks, that's what we were aiming for,” Harry says monotonically and continues drying the dishes. He thinks about last night, about how he realized what a great job they were doing. They're pulling this off better than Harry ever expected them to.

“There's more to this, right?” Gemma prods. “You like him.”

“No, I don't,” Harry refutes it immediately. “Niall forced us into this. He was supposed to come with me but he couldn't since he had a sinus removal surgery.”

“Of course,” Gemma lets out a small laugh. “But would you kiss Niall like that? And most importantly, would Niall kiss _you_ like that?”

“Gems,” Harry sighs, looking at her. “Please, don't start with this. We're just friends. Kind of. We never even hung out together on our own before this. And so what if we make out? We're two young, attractive, single guys who happen to be friends pretending to be boyfriends.”

“Friends don't kiss like that,” Gemma insists.

“Yeah, because we're not even proper friends,” Harry quips. “Why don't you tell me about Peter instead of interrogating me? You didn't tell me about that either.”

Gemma groans, dropping the cup she was holding into the soapy water. “Peter and I weren't working for months,” she says, her voice dropping low before she continues. “I started seeing someone else.”

“What?” Harry squawks. “So you _cheat_ on your boyfriend and I bring a fake boyfriend and somehow _I'm_ the bad sibling? Hypocritic much?”

“Shut up,” Gemma says through her teeth and kneels Harry in his thigh. “I didn't cheat on him. I just… met someone else and we went out for drinks a few times. I never slept with him. I broke up with Peter like two weeks ago, before anything could happen.”

Harry rolls his eyes. He nudges Gemma then, quite gently with his elbow. “So you have a new _beau_ , as granny would say.”

“Yes,” Gemma admits reluctantly. “But we're not putting a label on anything yet. Technically, I just broke up with my boyfriend of three years.”

“That's fair,” Harry nods. “So who is he?”

Gemma sighs, taking a long pause before she speaks. “His name is Evan. We met at a conference in Seattle. They can get so boring but that whole weekend, I was having a great time with him. I didn't think I'd ever see him again but then we ran into each other at a Starbucks one morning. And he said that he had regretted not asking for my number and that he's glad we found each other randomly in one of the biggest cities in the world. I didn't tell him about Peter at first, not until I was sure I wanted for us to delve into some more… romantic territory.”

“Oh my god,” Harry grins. “That's like, proper rom-com material.”

“No, it isn't,” Gemma insists. “His firm is like a block away from mine and he was representing them at the conference. If I had paid any attention I would've figured out that we're not that far from each other in New York. Besides, we would've ended up running into one another sooner than later. At a Christmas party I went to before coming here, for example. He was there as well and I had no idea. It was just a coincidence.”

“Okay,” Harry puts his hands up, a smirk still on his lips. “Whatever you say. But I'm saying, Rosamunde Pilcher. One day you're gonna be telling your grandkids this cute ass story, trust me.”

“Yeah, like you're gonna be telling yours that you and their other grandpa started off as fake boyfriends?” Gemma quirks her eyebrow at him.

“What?” Harry scoffs. “Never. I'm never getting married. Definitely not to Zayn, not to anyone. I'm not built for long-term relationships. This whole charade is over the second we're speeding down the highway back to Manhattan.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gemma rolls her eyes obnoxiously. “Just because you and Logan didn't work out, doesn't mean that you and someone who isn't a walking trash can won't. Zayn clearly likes you. All you have to do is bite the bullet.”

“That's bullshit and you know it,” Harry says. “We're just fooling around here. He wouldn't look at me twice if Niall didn't force us into this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gemma drawls without an ounce of belief. “Do you know what you're doing here? You two have been acting like the most loved-up boyfriends ever. It's disgusting to watch, really.”

“It's called acting, look it up,” Harry says. “I know very well what I'm doing.”

“I'll remind you that when you're either happily married or crying about your broken heart when Zayn starts dating someone who will actually appreciate him,” Gemma says, turning off the water and snatching the tea towel from Harry's hands. “If you don't open your eyes, this won't end well,” she thrusts the towel back to Harry before turning on her heel and leaving

Harry's left staring behind her, a hurricane of thoughts in his head. This is still just a game, Harry _knows_ it is. But they might've broken the score counter.

xxx

The next day, uncle Ian with Judie and their kids come quite early in the morning. Harry remembers his mom mentioning that they might come in for a bit but it slipped his mind. Nina and Lily are still very young and ever since Lily was born about two and a half years ago, they stopped coming to the cabin for the entire holiday. It's been a small controversy but schlepping things for two toddlers around couldn't have been fun for anyone.

They have all spent Thanksgiving together and truth be told, Harry prefers Nina and Lily over Matt and Jane. They haven't learned what sarcasm is yet and even if Nina might've braided his hair so tight he considered just cutting it off before, it was all in good fun. She's five, not a professional hairdresser.

Nina runs to Harry once she sees him when they get in right after breakfast, yelling at him in glee as he picks her up.

“Ahhh, you're so big now,” Harry pretends to drop her before lifting her up again. “You grew a foot since Thanksgiving. What have they been feeding you?”

“Mommy gave me spinach yesterday and I didn't like it,” Nina pouts. “Do you have candy?”

“Candy?” Harry squawks dramatically. “All your teeth will rot!”

“Don't give her anything,” Judie says as she comes to Harry and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “She had two gingerbread cookies on the way here.”

“Don't worry,” Harry gives her a smile. “Tell that to the cousins that don't even know what a gym looks like and live off of instant ramen at college.”

“I heard you!” Matt yells from somewhere.

“Good!” Harry yells back at him. “Think about your arteries!” he looks back at Nina. “You wanna play hide and seek? Or with Evie?”

“Evie!” Nina screeches with excitement. “She's here?”

“Yes, she's here,” Harry affirms. “She's in my room with my… boyfriend. I'll tell him to bring her down, yeah?”

“Okay,” Nina nods. “Can we play hide and seek until then?”

“Of course, we can,” Harry says and sets her down on the floor. “Go hide. I'm counting to a hundred.”

“No peeking!” Nina calls out to him as she runs further into the house.

“No peeking!” Harry repeats and pulls his phone out of his jeans. He shoots Zayn a text, telling him that his baby cousins are here and they wanna see Evie. He's sure Lily will be excited to see her too. He hopes Zayn is already up, which Harry supposes he is because of the general noise and commotion that has been going on for at least twenty minutes now. But it's still not even 10 AM and in the past few days Harry has learned that Zayn sleeps like a corpse.

He ends up turning up downstairs in around fifteen minutes, Evie in his arms. Harry's already in the living room, where almost everyone is, some Lifetime Christmas film on TV but no one's really paying attention.

“Look who's here,” Harry gently nudges Nina to look up from her book. She does look up and squeals when she sees Evie. Before grabbing her, she does notice Zayn too.

“Hello, I'm Nina,” she says, reaching her hand out for a handshake. “Are you Harry's boyfriend?”

Zayn laughs, throwing Harry a quick amused look before squatting down to be at Nina's eye level. “Yeah, I am. I'm Zayn, nice to meet you, Nina. I brought Evie down for you. She was napping so I think she's gonna want to play with you now.”

“Evie always wants to play with me,” Nina says confidently and reaches for Evie. Zayn looks at Harry, asking if it's okay without any words. Harry just nods at him with a small smile. Nina has been more than great with Evie. Usually, he thinks that little kids and pets can be a disaster but Nina has been thoroughly vetted. Evie hasn't been traumatized so far and Harry hopes she won't be.

Nina starts playing with her on the carpet with some cat toys, giggling about her antics. Zayn joins Harry on the couch a few minutes later, after he disappeared in the kitchen and emerged with a plate of breakfast and coffee.

“Your baby cousins seem to love you,” Zayn comments as he and Harry basically supervise Nina and Evie's playtime.

“I love kids,” Harry says plainly. “I was thinking about doing child psychology but I don't think I would've handled kids with trauma without breaking my heart every single time. Do _you_ like kids?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Zayn nods. “My mom's the oldest of her siblings so I have a bunch of little cousins. We don't meet that often but when we do, and there aren't nannies around, my older sister and I are always stuck with them so they grew on me, I guess. They're just little humans who don't know shit yet, it's cute. You can show them a new vegetable they haven't eaten yet and they're gonna be completely taken by it for a while. It's fun.”

Harry laughs. “You can say that, yeah. I wasn't around little kids much, until Lily and Nina. But back home in Philly, I used to babysit sometimes when I was younger in the neighbourhood as one does to get some money to spend on stupid shit when you're in your early teens.”

“So you're a kid whisperer, Styles?” Zayn teases him with a smirk.

“Nah, I'd rather be a cat whisperer,” Harry grins back at him. “But I feel like that's you since you made my cat completely fall in love with you.”

“Did I?” Zayn raises his eyebrows, his lips still curled up. “Well, Evie's amazing company but I'm more into humans?”

“Hawwy!” yells a voice at their feet. When Harry looks down, he sees Lily with her little hands on the edge of the sofa, trying to climb up.

“Oh, hello, Lily,” Harry says and helps her up, sitting her between him and Zayn. “How are you today?”

“Good,” Lily says back. She looks around for a while before her eyes eventually find Zayn. She's quiet for a while before she points at herself and says “I Lily.”

“Hello, Lily,” Zayn says slowly, a smile on his face. “I'm Zayn. Do you like cats?”

Harry watches in fascination as Lily nods and Zayn calls Evie over, Nina getting bored of her already and on her way to pressure Matt into giving her piggyback rides. He feels like watching a really thrilling wildlife documentary as Zayn manages to entertain a cat and a toddler at the same time for quite a long period of time. So Harry just sits back and continues to watch this enigma unfold.

xxx

After Ian, Judie and the girls leave in the early evening, everyone has dinner together and congregates in the living, to watch some Christmas films. As the night progresses, the room gets emptier and emptier as everyone seems to retire for the night. The last film that was put on is Love, Actually and it turns out that both Harry and Zayn love it enough to stay up quite late and finish it.

The fireplace crackling in the corner, the TV turned on relatively low and mulled wine and Christmas tea blend on the coffee table create a cosy cocoon that is quite hard to leave regardless. Harry never checked the time but it must be just after midnight now and his eyes are kind of dropping but he also wants to see the ending. His head has dropped down to Zayn's shoulder sometimes at the end of Grinch and he hadn't much reason to get up since he had his cup of mulled wine with him. But if he doesn't want to fall asleep, he has to do something. So Harry lifts his head up and sits up straighter, regretting it immediately and pulling his legs up on the couch and hugging them.

“What would your plans for the holidays look like if Niall hadn't blackmailed you to come with me?” Harry asks Zayn then, figuring that conversation is a good way to stay awake.

“Um,” Zayn hums for a while. “Dunno. I would've caught up on some TV shows, probably walked around Central Park a lot. Went to the movies. I was invited to a few New Year's Eve parties. Not much.”

“That sounds really good,” Harry drawls and then yawns. “But lonely.”

“I'm okay with being alone sometimes,” Zayn says, his eyes tired as he looks at Harry with his head tilted to one side. “Some people do a juice cleanse, I do a people cleanse. Although Christmas is not the happiest time for it.”

“Why didn't you wanna go with your family to Switzerland?” Harry asks, not thinking about whether the question is too personal or not. He's too tired for that. “You could've just locked yourself in a hotel room and done whatever you liked.”

“I just felt like staying home,” Zayn shrugs. “Even if there was no one in New York. It's still home.”

“Do you mind being here?” Harry wonders. “With a bunch of strangers essentially?”

“Not really,” Zayn says, a contemplative look on his face. “I feel very welcome here, if you know what I mean? Your family's great. They're all acting like we've known each other for ages. And you haven't been as approachable as an angry porcupine lately either.”

“Sorry,” Harry smiles, the corners of his lips barely lifting. “I'm as sweet as caramel when you get to know me.” Harry stretches out, leaning against the sofa again. He can vaguely feel Zayn's body heat near him but he resists leaning against him again.

“Are you?” Zayn teases. Harry turns his head, looking at him. His lips are plump and red from the wine and Harry wants to taste them, even more than he did during the snow fight. Maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe his sexual frustration but Harry says fuck it. This doesn't have to mean anything, just like their first time. Only now it's going to be completely deliberate and voluntary. Exactly as with Vegas, what happens at the cabin, stays at the cabin. Manhattan is miles and miles away and none of this will matter as they're in a crowded subway, or writing their papers for college or getting off with someone else at a party.

“I am,” Harry whispers and leans in closer to Zayn. And he doesn't jerk away, even as their lips are so close their breath mingles together in between.

In the end, Harry's not sure who made the first move but their lips crash together, hot skin on even hotter, flashing with blinding passion. Harry snakes his arms around Zayn's neck, pulling them closer together because they're not in middle-school anymore to have that kind of a gap between them. Their tongues meet in a few seconds and it feels too damn good, much better than the time they had everyone watching them underneath the mistletoe. Now it's just them and they're not putting a show. This is only for them.

It's not romantic or loving. It's all simply based on elemental attraction because they're two adult men who can kiss each other without any ties or commitment. Why couldn't they take advantage of the situation? None of this will matter in a week or so.

Harry's hit by the memories of one drunken October night when he was a freshman, of how the bathroom tiles felt, of the taste of tequila in his mouth. It's not a very pleasant memory but this is just like that, isn't it? Only they're more sober and Harry won't regret it as much. He tries to forget about it, at least for tonight. About the shame and disappointment.

He finds himself straddling Zayn's hips, just like the day before in the snow but now he isn't afraid to grind his hips down. Harry doesn't mind once Zayn's hands make their way down to his ass. It's just making out and he's made out with so many people in his lifetime that he couldn't even begin to count them all. They're not gonna fuck, however, because Harry still has some self-preservation and self-respect left. He hasn't gone completely berserk.

Zayn is beautiful, even a blind person could attest to that, and Harry likes beautiful things. It's a little indulgence, fueled by the cheerful Christmas atmosphere and two months without getting off with another human being. They'll survive it. They have once before, after all. Even if the pain lingered for months afterwards.

  
  



	3. iii.

The following morning, Harry's woken up by the sound of a text message being delivered. He reaches for his phone on the bedside table, eyeing the clock grimly, as it shows that it's just after 7 AM. But there is indeed a new text waiting for him. It's from Niall, saying ' _happy christmas you cunt, love ya! ps. have you and zayn killed each other yet or have you fucked?'_.

Harry rolls his eyes as he reads it, unlocking his phone to reply. Since Zayn's currently pressed against his back, an arm thrown around Harry's waist, he's very much alive. And no, they haven't fucked and they won't. That's a boundary Harry isn't willing to cross. Kissing doesn't mean anything but letting someone quite literally inside of you is a step too far for this whole charade. None of it is real, not quite. They might've consciously fallen asleep like this but whether it's Stockholm syndrome or cabin fever, or some Christmas spell, it'll be over once January rolls around and they're in NYC again. So Harry's going with whatever is happening now. He knows very well that if they weren't forced into this by Niall, Zayn would've forever stayed that weird good acquaintance, not quite a friend that he was before.

' _christmas was a few days ago now and no, we're both alive and we HAVE NOT FUCKED nor will we ever'_ Harry texts back. Niall sees the message right away and his typing bubble appears promptly. The next text is even worse ' _your sister said something else about you two'._

“Oh my god,” Harry whispers to himself and starts typing again. ' _niall i swear to god if youre trying to hit on my sister again im disowning you. im deporting you back to ireland somehow. why are you two talking?'_ Harry sends. Within a few moments, he has his reply, ' _she texted me. said she was pissed at me for organizing this because you and zayn keep acting like boyfriends while pining for each other and its annoying. her words, not mine. have you at least sucked him off? i know your moves hazza'._

Harry considers blocking Niall's number then but instead, he texts back, ' _no, i havent and i wont. we havent done anything sexual. we kissed a few times IN FRONT OF PEOPLE because thats what we woudlve done if we were actually dating. which we are not. i just have to get through a week or so more and i can go back to ignoring him like before.'._ Niall must be having great fun with this because he replies, ' _yeah and im father christmas. just let it go hazza. z likes you. he wouldnt have gone with you otherwise, that boy is a stubborn cunt.'_.

Harry scoffs at this ridiculous statement. Niall doesn't know about their past. And besides, Harry has been single for almost a year. If Zayn _truly_ liked him, he could've asked him out a million times. They've been clubbing together as a group this year more than five times. He could've made a move then or literally any other time he saw Harry, which was many times. Harry just texts Niall, ' _if he really liked me, he had a million chances to ask me out this year and he wouldve done it. hes not a mute child. im not talking about this with you anymore. GOODBYE.'_ and locks him phone. He's determined to ignore Niall at least until the new year.

With his phone on do not disturb, Harry closes his eyes and tries to fall back asleep again, at least for a bit. The bed soft and cozy, and another warm body there with him, it's not such a hard feat.

xxx

In early afternoon, Harry decides to drag Zayn out to the tiny frozen lake behind their cabin. It's not snowing, thankfully, so they should be mostly okay. As usual, it is freezing so they bundle up in warm jackets and this time around, Harry doesn't wear jeans. It still sometimes feels like his dick is half-frozen and he doesn't want to find himself in the ER later tonight because he's pissing icicles.

“I'm not a great skater,” Zayn remarks as they walking toward the lake, each with a pair of shakes in hand and a thermos with tea that Anne forced them to take. “Fun fact, I can skateboard quite well though.”

“And snowboard?” Harry teases, remembering how Zayn mentioned that he nearly broke his leg last year.

Zayn rolls his eyes at him. “I'm good with like, all the snow things, last year some first-time snowboarder got in my way and I couldn't stop or slow down in time. Came out of nowhere, really. That guy actually did have broken bones.”

“Good thing you survived in one piece then,” Harry remarks. “And we're here.”

The lake is something close to a pond, lined by a bit of artificially-placed sand that is nice for sunbathing in the summer. But it's frozen over and even if they were to fall in through broken ice, the water doesn't go that deep either way. Still, Harry hopes a disaster doesn't happen. He's had nightmare about getting sliced up with ice skates and his clumsiness is always a lurking threat.

“This is nice,” Zayn comments as they walk to the picnic table that's there, sitting down to put their skates on. 

The second Harry stands to his feet he nearly falls over on his ass which is frankly embarrassing.

“Do _you_ know how to skate?” Zayn chuckles as he stands up too. He wordlessly takes Harry's gloved hand in his and they stumble towards the ice together. Once they're actually on the ice and not the wobbly snow, Harry feels more sure on his feet and he doesn't know what Zayn was talking about, since he's perfectly okay on the skates.

“Better than Central Park, yeah?” Harry grins as he pulls Zayn further into the middle of the lake. “No kids milling around that probably have a death wish. No dumbass couples trying moves that take years to master. Good, right?”

“Yeah, it's cool,” Zayn says, his breath turning into mist right away. “Kinda miss the cheesy music and lights, though.”

Harry rolls his eyes and drops Zayn's hands. “Don't be high-maintenance. I'd play you some music but it would disturb the wildlife. You don't wanna get killed by a moose at the ripe age of twenty-one, do you?”

Zayn laughs, skating closer to Harry. “Of course not. But maybe if I got to haunt this lake… that'd be cool. Very _Friday the 13th_. I'd pull you underwater. But don't go skinny dipping, I'm not that catfish that bit your dick.”

“Shut up!” Harry squeaks, his face red as he skates away from Zayn faster. “I hate them for ever telling you that. It _hurt_ , okay? I'm gonna catch a catfish and put it on your dick, see how you like that.”

“Did Logan blow your boo-boo?” Zayn laughs behind him. “Put a kids band-aid on it?”

“I actually hate you,” Harry laughs. “No, he wasn't here. And stop talking about my dick. This place is associated with so many nice memories. Fuck the catfish. It probably got eaten already.”

“Now that's a kink I've never heard of before,” Zayn catches up to Harry, smacking his ass before skating away from him quickly.

“You little shit,” Harry complains before he starts flying down the ice to Zayn. They collide eventually, both laughing so hard their lungs are starting to hurt from the cold air. Eventually, they calm down to catch their breath. Harry's got his hands on Zayn's shoulders, while Zayn holds his hips, keeping him in place.

“You're evil out here,” Harry manages to gasp out. “There must be some bad juju that's making you be like that. You're so nice to everyone but me. You're supposed to be my boyfriend.”

“Well, last night you said you're as sweet as caramel and you haven't been that sweet,” Zayn smirks. “I'm just teasing you, babe. You don't meet people every day who had their dick bitten by a catfish.”

Harry can't help but laugh, his eyes closed as he throws his head back. “I knew you were such good friends with Niall for a reason. You're both the same menaces. You only hide it better.”

“Maybe so,” Zayn shrugs. “Niall's sarcasm doesn't have an off button. Mine does.”

“Really?” Harry drawls, eyeing him. “How does one get to turn that off?”

“Oh, there's many ways,” Zayn muses. “You might have discovered one last night.”

“So if I kiss you you're gonna stop with the catfish thing?” Harry quirks an eyebrow. “Why do I have trouble believing that?”

“My mouth's gonna be occupied some other way, duh,” Zayn shakes his head with a laugh. “It's simple logic.”

Harry thinks about what a horrible idea this is but he's already allowed himself to fuck up while they're here. None of this will matter in a few days. So Harry leans his head to the side and connects their lips in a kiss. Just hours after the last time, this feels familiar, warm and Harry almost feels like he can smell the fire and taste the mulled wine again but that's just a fool's idea.

This kiss ends quite quickly, before either of them can include a tongue in it. It wasn't chaste but it was enough to get Harry's blood pumping, making him feel like it's much warmer outside than it already is.

“C'mon,” Harry nods his head at Zayn, slowly moving away on his skates. “Let's race for a bit before we go back in. It's gonna be dark soon.”

As they circle the lake a few times until it gets dark, there are no mentions of that fucking catfish so Harry counts it as a success.

xxx

Gemma corners Harry in the mudroom when they get back, right as Harry's putting away the skates. Zayn went upstairs to change already, so it's just them and for a moment, Harry thinks Gemma's going to murder him. At least that's what her angry look suggests.

“Harry, what the fuck?” she yell-whispers once the door to the hallway and the rest of the house is closed. “What was _that_?”

“What was what?” Harry frowns, standing up from where he was squatting near the cabinet with ice skates. “What did I do?”

“I saw you on the lake,” Gemma says, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I can't believe you lied to my face.”

“Lied about what?” Harry shakes his head. “We were just skating. Did you want to go with us? Is that why you're mad?”

“No,” Gemma says. “You said that you two weren't together and I saw you _kissing._ There was no one out there, just the two of you and you were making out like some teenagers.”

Harry's jaw drops slightly as he tries to gather his words. “Well, you were there!”

“I was on the phone with Evan, walking around, because in this house you can't have any privacy,” Gemma explains. “But you two are together and you didn't tell me.”

“We're not together,” Harry rolls his eyes. “We were just kissing. What, am I not allowed to kiss someone without your permission?”

Gemma sighs, her arms falling down along her body. “I asked you like two days ago if you knew you were doing and you said yet but clearly, you have no fucking clue what you're doing.”

“I do know what I'm doing,” Harry scoffs. “Can't we have a little fun? It doesn't mean anything. We're stuck here together so might as well take advantage of it.”

“I can't believe you,” Gemma shakes her head. “How are you not adopted is beyond me. Or maybe I'm adopted because there is _no way_ my brother is that stupid.”

“Jesus Christ, Gems,” Harry throws his hands up. “Didn't you have casual sexual relations in college too? Why are you acting like this?”

“Mom wasn't there when Logan broke up with you,” Gemma says fiercely. “She lives in blissful ignorance, thinking Zayn is your boyfriend and everything is fine. But you spent a week in _my_ apartment, while I tried to piece you together after Logan left. I can see the way you two look at each other. And I know your ways, Harry. I still don't fucking know what Logan did to you that you became like this, but you need to get your shit together. Either stop this completely or open your eyes and fix it. Because I'm not gonna be here for you again when you come crying to me about a broken heart.”

“Fine,” Harry snaps. “Because there won't be a broken heart. You can't get one when you're not in love. I can kiss whoever I want whenever I want. Logan has nothing to do with it.”

“Fine,” Gemma retorts, her lips set in a straight line. “But don't say I didn't fucking warn you.”

“Fine!” Harry yells after her when she turns around and leaves him alone in the mudroom, wanting to have the last word in this conversation.

Gemma doesn't knows a thing about this. And she wouldn't understand either, even if she knew all the bits and pieces Harry never told anyone. Not everything has to mean _something,_ be something. Because Harry knows that when he tries it to be, it always goes to shit either way.

xxx

The few days until New Year's Eve are spent well, Harry reckons. No matter how many ugly looks Gemma gives him every time he's touching Zayn in any way, Harry is determined to continue things just like before. So what if they kiss? They're adults, they make their own decisions. Just because Harry isn't looking for a relationship doesn't mean he has to be celibate his whole life.

The days of nothingness between Christmas and the New Year are very mystifying but Harry has always found them quite pleasant. You don't really know what day it is, you don't feel like shit if you're not productive and spend all your time on the couch watching TV and eating cookies. It's warmth and the fuzzy feeling of a good, long hug.

He does look into his notes for his internship a few times, not too seriously though. Zayn usually hangs around, reading the book he got at Rosie's Petals, commenting on the plot of the sequels as well because apparently, he knows what's gonna happen but he's reading it either way. Harry redoes his nails one of those days and tries to talk Zayn into letting him paint his nails too but Zayn doesn't let him. Not because he would mind having his nails painted but because “ _that pastel… turquoise is so fucking ugly, I'm not letting you put that on me”_ and yeah, that's fair. Harry's heard a similar comment about that particular polish before but he likes it and it's his nails so he doesn't really give a fuck. 

New Year's Eve is a bit of a strange holiday and Harry's never quite liked it. Sure, when he was younger it was exciting to stay up late and set off some fireworks but now, honestly, he'd rather be in New York at a party, getting drunk off his ass. Next year, he might end up taking a quick trip to Manhattan for a party and then coming back to the cabin. He loves his family, but they're not the most exciting bunch.

They do technically _have_ a party of sorts. There is party food, they're encouraged to dress up nicely but all they do is sit around in the living room, watching various New Year's Eve programmes and then when the middle ages adults are tipsy enough, there is some dancing involved. Aunt Betty always puts on some late 80's music of her youth and Matt and Jane whine at her to stop embarrassing them.

This year it's not much different. At 11 PM, the adults are drunk just enough to abandon their adult kids and reminisce about their youth while pulling some _terrible_ dance moves. But it's all in good fun. Harry knows that one day, he's gonna be that old too and oh, he _will_ start dancing the second he hears Beyoncé playing.

“Are they ignoring us already?” Matt stage-whispers as he comes back to the corner of the living room where the _youths_ are sitting around, drinking all the wine they could find. “I got something for us.” Matt then proceeds to pull out a bottle of vodka from behind his back. In his other hand are a bunch of neon plastic shot glasses Harry's sure are leftover from his last party.

“Oh, wow, you're so generous,” Gemma says in a monotone voice. “Shitty vodka. This is the best party ever.”

“Don't be ungrateful,” Matt nudges her ribs as he sits back on the sofa. “You could've gone to some fancy party but you're here and this is all we have. Is everyone drinking?”

“Is it just straight vodka?” Harry frowns. Lately, he's graduated from shots to drinks because after hitting twenty-one, it felt too dumb to be puking after every single party. His drinking game is more refined now.

“Yep and you're gonna love it,” Matt thrusts a full shot glass into Harry's hand and another one into Zayn's, who doesn't look too excited about it either. Ah, to be a college freshman again and be thrilled about any and all alcohol.

“Well, cheers,” Zayn turns to Harry and clinks their neon shot glasses together before throwing back the shot. Harry feels like he just drunk plain petrol or something. One thing he doesn't miss from his earlier years of college is the cheap vodka.

“God, this is like paint thinner,” Jane says, shaking her head. “I love it. Give me another one.”

Everyone silently agrees but alcohol is needed here. Especially as the music gets louder and Aunt Betty screams in glee at her favourite song coming on. They try to play a drinking game for a while but it stops working when Jane starts arguing about how fair is it really, when she's the one to drink three times in the row so they drop it rather quickly.

“Do you have any New Year's resolutions?” Zayn asks Harry about three shots in. His dress shirt is now more unbuttoned and Harry has a hard time focusing on his face when there's a very nice chest peeking out from underneath the dark material.

Eventually, Harry manages to lift his eyes up and meet Zayn's gaze. “No. You don't need a new calendar to start being a better person. Do you have any?”

“Maybe,” Zayn shrugs. His eyes are a bit glossy now with the alcohol. They've all been mixing wine and vodka. This is not gonna end well for their livers. “I wanna stop smoking. Not weed but just regular cigarettes. That's it, I guess.”

“Not bad,” Harry admits. “Tobacco is so useless. Just ruins your lungs. But I'll have to say, I don't mind a blunt from time to time. It'd be dumb to ask if you have any now, right?”

Zayn grins at him. “Not really, no. But I don't have any, sorry. I felt like it would be inappropriate to bring drugs, technically, to my boyfriend's cabin for Christmas.”

“So considerate of you,” Harry puckers his lips before he knocks back another shot. “Fuck, this is horrible. What if Matt is really trying to poison us all?”

Zayn downs the shot as well, seemingly not affected by it. “It's just bad vodka. We both survived Niall's frat parties, we can get through this. Remember his mystery drinks? I'm genuinely surprised no one ever died from it. There must've been rat poison in it.”

Harry laughs so hard he snorts. “Oh god, I know. He said once that it was different for every party. Basically unfinished bottles of booze from previous parties. But he said that he _always_ put a Guinness in it just for the sake of it. Said it would be bad luck if he didn't.”

“I never had to have my stomach pumped so I guess it worked,” Zayn shrugs. They're sitting sideways on the loveseat, so close together that Harry can smell the alcohol on Zayn's breath. His lips are stained a bit red with wine and Harry wonders if his own are as well. He just hopes his teeth aren't red. It happened once and it was terrifying.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Harry asks out of nowhere. “We're starting a new decade. S'weird, innit? Ten years ago I was a little kid. So much can change.”

“It's ten years,” Zayn mumbles. “But I don't know. I just wanna be happy, you know what I mean? Doesn't matter what I'm doing, if I'm married, if I have kids. Shit just figures itself out so, I just wanna be happy. No plans, no expectations.”

Harry stares at him, nodding along even after Zayn has stopped talking. He can feel how the alcohol had hit him now and if someone was to give him that police sobriety test, he would fail it spectacularly. But it's just so fucking _hard_ to stop watching Zayn's lips move. Harry lets his head drop on his arm that's outstretched on the back of the sofa. “I really wanna kiss you right now,” Harry mumbles at Zayn. “And maybe take that shirt off of you so I can see that tattoo you have there on your collarbone.”

Zayn smirks at him slowly, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You're a very sloppy drunk, Harry Styles, aren't you?”

“No,” Harry drawls. “I'm actually quite good at handling myself. My brain to mouth filter just doesn't work as well. And I'm not that drunk, it's just the fuckin' wine and vodka combo.”

Suddenly, someone smack the back of Harry's head. He turns around, ready to tell whoever it was off but Jane doesn't give him a chance. “It's almost midnight, loser. Grab your boyfriend and come outside. You spent enough time ignoring us.”

Harry rolls his eyes at her and stands up on wobbly legs. When he's standing, he offers a hand to Zayn who takes it and doesn't let him go. They have enough alcohol cruising through their veins to be stupid and not wear any jackets. Harry's dad and Uncle Paul are setting up some fireworks while his mom and Aunt Betty are giving everyone a flute of champagne.

“If I drink this I'm gonna puke,” Harry notes depressingly as he looks down into his glass. “It's gonna be a version of Niall's death drink in my stomach.”

“Then don't,” Zayn says simply and snakes an arm around Harry's waist. “Fucking hell, it's cold. Why aren't we wearing coats?”

“Because we're dumb fucks,” Harry says, his teeth chattering. “It's just a few minutes. We're men, aren't we? There must be an Old Spice ad about conquering the cold. Let's take inspiration from there.”

Zayn laughs into Harry's shoulder. “You're ridiculous. C'mere.” Zayn drops his plastic flute of champagne down and pulls Harry into an embrace, Harry's drink meeting a similar fate quickly. “Let's not freeze completely if we have body heat.”

“You're so warm,” Harry sighs into Zayn's neck. “I'm never letting you go.”

“What if I have to piss?”

“Don't care, you're warm.”

The countdown to midnight starts being screeched out by everyone but Harry's tongue is heavy, too heavy to participate in cheerful yelling.

“You want a NYE midnight kiss?” Zayn whispers into Harry's ear, his breath warm. The vibrations of his voice send a chill down Harry's spine.

Harry pulls back enough so they can look at each other. “Why else did I bring you here for?” Just as everyone yells 'one' around them, Harry says quietly, “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year,” Zayn repeats and presses their lips together. The warmth of it is a solace in the frigid temperatures outside and Harry lets his tongue slip into Zayn's mouth quickly. Midnight kisses should be chaste and cheerful but this is much better. He pushes their bodies together as Zayn tightens his grip on Harry's hips. Even in the disgusting cold air, as some fireworks go off in the background, Harry can feel himself getting hard from the kiss and if whatever he feels against his hip is anything to go by, Zayn isn't far off from him as well.

Harry knows he will blame it on the alcohol later, and he should, but in that specific moment, it's inconceivable to him that this should end with just kissing. He's not in high school anymore. So Harry fucks up, monumentally, irreversibly and tragically, by asking one simple question.

“Do you want to go up to my room?” Harry whispers against Zayn's lips. He ruts his hips and Zayn just nods a few times between kisses and the deal with the devil has been signed.

“Okay,” Harry says quietly, nodding like a dog figurine on the dashboard of a car. “Let's go. They're all drunk, they won't notice we're gone.”

Even if it feels like he's been slapped by the cold once their lips aren't touching, Harry wants to get to his bedroom as quick as he can. He grabs Zayn's hand in his and pulls him behind himself, walking as fast as his drunken feet allow him to. The stairs are a more difficult feat but they're finally upstairs, opening the door to the bedroom they've been occupying for over a week now and it doesn't feel so hopeless.

Harry pulls Zayn into a kiss the second the door is closed again, his hands holding his face like he should disappear if Harry let go.

“Fuck,” Harry curses between kisses, his hands already moving to the buttons of Zayn's shit. “I've wanted to take this off of you for so long now.”

“Ditto,” Zayn mumbles into Harry's lips, his own hands too on Harry's shirt. It doesn't take long before they're shirtless, falling onto the bed together. It's been a while since Harry had someone in his bed and the pure thrill of it is making him so hard that he gasps every time his dick catches against his zipper. He starts unbuttoning his own pants, trying to take them off as fast as he can. Zayn does the same thing and soon they're both just in their underwear, humping against each other like they're teenagers doing this for the first time.

Harry pulls Zayn between his legs, locking him in as they kiss. Their dicks catch against each other a few times, making them moan into one another's mouth.

“Fuck me,” Harry says into the kiss. “Please, just fuck me. Quickly.”

“Okay,” Zayn mutters as he moves to kiss Harry's neck. “Do you have stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out heavily. “Bedside table. There should be lube at least. Dunno about a condom but I'm clean and I don't mind if you don't.”

Zayn doesn't comment on it as he reaches for the drawer, pulling out a half-empty bottle of lube but no condom. “I've never fucked anyone raw,” he says. “So I'm good. But are you sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Just need you in me. C'mon, don't drag this out.”

“Fuck, you're impatient,” Zayn chuckles as he begins to slowly pull Harry's boxers down, finally freeing his dick. “Glad to see there's no permanent damage from that catfish. It would be such a pity, you have a nice dick.”

Harry laughs, covering his eyes with his hands. “Shut up. I'm gonna go soft if you keep mentioning that.”

“You sure about that?” Zayn kisses Harry's neck and slowly wraps a hand around Harry's dick. “This doesn't feel like that.”

“Fuck,” Harry moans at the contact. “Don't fucking tease me, I won't last.”

“Don't worry, babe,” Zayn mumbles into Harry's skin as he kisses down his chest. “I'll make sure you do, yeah?”

“Do whatever you want, just fuck me,” Harry says.

“That's a lot of freedom,” Zayn mumbles and suddenly his lips are on Harry's dick as his fingers circle his rim, now wet with lube. And it's too fucking much at once, the pleasure shooting through Harry's body like those damn fireworks from outside. He's far from quiet, not giving a fuck that there's his whole family in the house, he can't not be loud when Zayn starts fucking him with his fingers as he leisurely blows him. He's not ever blowing him properly, just getting the tip in his mouth sometimes, changing it up with kissing his length.

“God, Zayn,” Harry gasps as he gets three fingers in him. “I'm good, just get in me before I come. Fucking hell, hurry up.”

“Alright,” Zayn drawls, taking his fingers out as he leaves a few kisses on the inside of Harry's thigh. He then takes off his underwear, Harry taking the moment to ogle him. He does have a nice dick, not too big that it would be uncomfortable but both the girth and length are enough that Harry's sure he's gonna feel it tomorrow. Not to mention that Zayn is fucking gorgeous with his slim, toned torso littered with a few tattoos that Harry still never got the chance to get his lips on and fucking hell, does he want to.

Zayn lubes himself up before leaning down to hover over Harry's body, lining himself up. Harry lets out a string of curses as he enters him, letting in just the tip at first so he can adjust.

“You can move, please,” Harry moans after a moment, warily moving his hips to get more of Zayn's length inside of him. He can't even think, not about how wrong this is or how he's going to regret it because it feels too fucking good.

With one hand on Harry's hip and the other by his head, Zayn pushes in until he's fully inside and for a second, Harry thinks he could easily come like that. But then Zayn starts moving and he wants it to last forever.

It's a continuous stream of pleasure, not even stuttering as they start to kiss again, languidly and easily, moaning in between kisses. Harry wraps his thighs around Zayn's hips, keeping him as close as he can. He tangles his fingers in Zayn's hair as they kiss and it seems too good to be true. But it isn't.

They find a rhythm that feels like heaven. Somehow, Harry ends up holding Zayn's left hand in his right and they're pressed so close together it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Harry turns his mind off as he feels that familiar heat building low in his stomach, wanting to rush to that sweet finish, that thrilling release. In that moment, he doesn't give a fuck about anything but that incredible feeling of being stretched out and filled in, over and over again, feeling warm all over and sated with slow kisses.

It's too fucking intimate when they look at each other. It's too much and not enough at the same time and instead of trying to make sense of it, of the look in Zayn's eyes, of his own frantic heartbeat, Harry just closes his eyes and lets go.

xxx

It has been a couple of years since Harry woke up on January 1st without a hangover and this morning isn't any different. By any means, it's not terrible but his mouth is dry and his head hurts enough that he's gonna look for some paracetamol. Only to add to that unpleasant sensation of a hangover, there is dried up come all over his ass and a few more areas of his body. And only then it hits, all that he did last night.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Harry groans. He's still naked and so is Zayn, pressed against his back like any other morning. Only this time there's absolutely nothing between them. He tries not to freak out because yeah, this is a mistake and outside of his drawn-up boundaries but maybe if he acts like nothing happened, they can pretend like nothing happened, just as last time.

Harry reaches for his phone, which is magically on his bedside table and not somewhere under the bed where he guesses his pants are. There is a sizeable amount of New Year's texts so he better start replying to them. He likes to do most of them during the night but this year, his traditions were a bit derailed because he himself was getting railed. Regrettably so.

Replying nearly the same thing to everyone is quite monotonous but it's nice that so many people thought of him, even of some of the messages were mass-sent. Regardless, it's nice to be remembered. He laughs at Niall's grumpy selfie, because the poor soul couldn't drink because of his sinus surgery. That's certainly a tragedy in Niall's book. Harry just replies that he drank enough for both of them.

There's a text from an unknown number, so Harry clicks on it, thinking it's probably someone from school who has his contact but Harry never bothered to either ask for theirs or save the number he was given. But he couldn't have been more wrong.

' _Happy new year, Harry. Hope to see you soon. Logan xx'_

Harry takes a sharp breath when he reads that text. This can't be fucking happening to him. His fingers move faster than his brain and delete the text right away. He can't have it in front of his eyes. Not after everything that happened, after everything he went through.

“Good morning,” Zayn mumbles into his shoulder then and Harry honestly feels like crying out of frustration. Is his life a bad sitcom? Is that why it sucks so badly?

“Last night didn't happen,” Harry says quickly and pulls himself out of Zayn's grasp. He locates his underwear somewhere on the ground and slips it on, before quickly walking to the bathroom door and pulling on a bathrobe.

“What?” Zayn breathes out, his eyes barely opened. “We had sex last night, Harry. How did it not happened?”

“It doesn't matter,” Harry says sternly. “It was a mistake. It's not gonna happen again.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows at Harry, sitting up in the bed. “What do you mean? What about the past week? You know we were kissing all the time when absolutely no one was around.”

“None of it was real, okay?” Harry huffs out a frustrated breath and runs a hand through his hair. “All this,” Harry moves his hands around. “Is just a fucking charade and nothing more. We're not actually together.”

“I know we're not together,” Zayn scoffs, shaking his head as he pauses for a while. “But last night, I thought- I didn't think it was nothing. Not after everything.”

“Not after everything?” Harry exclaims. “What everything? There was nothing! Absolutely nothing.”

Zayn blinks at him. “I don't usually sleep with people if there's nothing between us. I wouldn't have fucked you if you thought this was nothing.”

Harry lets out a bitter laugh. “You don't remember, do you?”

“Remember what?” Zayn frowns. “I can recall pretty much everything about last night. I wasn't that drunk.”

“Not last night,” Harry says quietly, shaking his head. “But at Niall's first frat party. Back in our freshman year. In that bathroom with the statue of a llama. Does that ring any bells?”

Zayn just stares at him silently, his lips in a straight line, a crease between his eyebrows. Harry takes a deep breath and continues speaking, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth and the stinging on his heart. “I came up to you in the kitchen. We flirted for a while before I kissed you. And we kept kissing until you dragged us to that bathroom. I was so fucking into you and I thought you were too. But I sucked you off that night and you _left me_ there, without a single word, before I even had the chance to look at you after you finished. And then, when I went out to find you and ask you what the fuck was that, you were on the couch, happily making out with Gigi. The next time you saw me, you acted like we've never met before and I was too fucking embarrassed to tell you anything.”

“That was you,” Zayn says, a flash of realization storming across his face, his voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck, that was _you.”_

“Yeah, it was me,” Harry retorts bitterly. “I hated you for two years for doing that and then Niall had to go and send you up here with me.”

“God, Harry, I'm so fucking sorry,” Zayn says and then he leans down the bed to try and find his clothes. “I truly had no fucking clue what really happened that night. I tried to figure out why you were always so vaguely mean to me but I just took it as that it was just how you were but fuck, I honestly had no idea. I was so high that night I don't know how I even survived it. I swear, I didn't remember.”

“Well, you remembered enough to know that _someone_ sucked your dick,” Harry spits. “It's hard to believe that you didn't connect the dots, not even after years of seeing me regularly.”

“Harry, I'm so sorry, I swear,” Zayn pleads. “I've had the worst fucking crush on you for ages. That's why I agreed to come here with you after Niall asked me. I _like_ you, and I'm sorry this happened. Fuck, I wish that night never happened.”

“Me too,” Harry says. “But it doesn't fucking matter now. Whatever this is, it's over. I can't have you here anymore, not after last night. I'll drive you to the bus station in Brooks Falls, I'll buy you a ticket to Manhattan, I don't fucking care.”

“What?” Zayn stops in his tracks. “Why? I mean, I know it's fucked up that I forgot and I swear to you I never meant to hurt you by that but now… the last few days were great, weren't they? Why can't we try this, whatever this is for real.”

Harry looks at him, trying to keep a straight face. He thinks about it for a split second, if they could continue kissing and having objectively good sex. Not everything was bad but Harry knows how it would end up. The text from Logan then flashes in front of his eyes and he remembers their breakup, remembers how he fucked it all up. He'd rather have the few nice memories of his time at the cabin with Zayn than have _that_ , because eventually, that's where they would end up.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, looking down at his feet. “We can't do this.”

“Can't?” Zayn asks. “Why not? I mean, we have been practically dating already. You _can't_ say that this was nothing, Harry. You know that it wasn't.”

“It was,” Harry bites his lip. “It has to be, Zayn. We can fuck sometimes if you want, when we're back at college but that's it. I can't do this.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” Zayn scoffs, coming closer to Harry. “Nothing would change, we would just stop pretending.”

“If we stop pretending there is nothing between us,” Harry says plainly. “You just fooled yourself into thinking that this could work because I played nice around my family and we had sex once. But it wouldn't.”

Zayn sets his jaw. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I've lived with myself for twenty-one years and I know!” Harry yells. “You deserve someone better. You want someone to love you, I'm just someone who will suck you off in a bathroom at a party or let you fuck them when you're tipsy and want to get off. I'm not someone you could love. And I couldn't love you, not in the way you deserve.”

“But what if I _want_ you?” Zayn says, touching Harry's hand gently before Harry snatches it away. “What if I don't give a single fuck about what I deserve?”

“Then it's your problem,” Harry snaps, taking a step back. “You're a good fucking person, Zayn. You care about other people, you fucking donate to cat charities. I'm an asshole. You don't know me well enough to think that you truly want me. If I say yes, you will get tired of me in a month. You'll torture yourself because you won't want to break up and we'll end up hating each other. Let's stay friends, okay? While we still can. We can forget about last night, we can forget that fucking cursed night back in our first year. I know now that I was wrong for holding it against you but fuck, you've never been left in a bathroom after sucking off a guy that you liked. But whatever, yeah? It's in the past. So take my friendship or take nothing. Because I can't give you what you want.”

Zayn looks at Harry, a firestorm in his eyes. “You're so blind, Harry. Was this what Logan told you? That you're not good enough? That you can't satisfy anyone in a relationship? Is that what he made you think while he went behind your back to fuck other women?”

“No!” Harry screams, walking away from him. “This has nothing to do with Logan and everything to do with me! I know that I wouldn't make you happy because we want different things. I mean, fuck, if you brought me home your dad would call me your friend. But I doubt we would ever be serious enough to get to that.”

“Don't bring my fucking dad into this,” Zayn snaps. “That's his problem, not mine. But you have a problem too and it's that your fucked up ex ruined your self-esteem and now you think you're not good enough for anyone. Well, I'm gonna tell you a secret - you are. You're a wonderful person, you want to help other young people, you're kind and kids love you. But you have a thick skull and no matter what I, or anyone else does, you won't change. So fine, I'll leave. Because I like you, I like you a lot and I think we could be good. I won't force you into anything. We fucked and that's it. End of story. We can leave this ridiculous chapter behind us.”

“Good,” Harry nods once, his voice on edge. “You know nothing about my ex or whatever's going on in my life. Think whatever you want but you're wrong. That's all I'll say. You're wrong about everything you just said. You'll see once you meet someone actually worth your time. Someone you will want to spend more than one night with. Or one and a half, in our case.”

Zayn shakes his head slowly. “I'm not the one who's wrong. And don't bother with the bus, I'll call for a car.”

Without saying another word, Harry leaves the room and doesn't look back.

xxx

Zayn is gone within half an hour. Harry watches as he leaves from the living room window, hiding behind the curtain so he doesn't see. But Zayn doesn't look back either, just like Harry didn't when he was leaving the bedroom. And everything's over, just like that.

Harry sits on the sofa, just in his underwear and bathrobe for God knows how long before his mom comes down and finds him there. He wasn't really thinking, he couldn't. Not when the images of last night kept showing up in front of his eyes, mingling with the painful flashbacks of his breakup with Logan. One is worse than the other and Harry doesn't want to remember either. He just wishes he could fucking forget everything and live in blissful ignorance.

“Harry, what happened, honey?” Anne asks as she walks to Harry. “Why are you crying?”

Harry touches his face, looking back at his wet fingers. “I didn't know I was crying,” he mutters and wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“What is going on, love?” Anne asks, her voice worried just like when Harry was a child and he came home crying with a busted knee. “What happened?”

Harry sighs deeply, his breath shaky. “Zayn and I broke up. He just left.”

“What?” Anne gasps and pulls Harry into a hug. An involuntary sob leaves Harry's throat, even if he knows this wasn't a real breakup. “How could you guys break up? You were so happy last night? You disappeared right after the fireworks.”

“I know,” Harry sniffs. “It just- it didn't work out. We wanted different things.”

“Honey,” Anne sighs and pets Harry's hair. “It doesn't make sense, I mean, you were so happy the whole time and now just suddenly you're done? You will talk it out, baby, trust me. Fights like this happen in a relationship. Just wait until you're back and everything will be fine again.”

“No, it won't,” Harry says adamantly, blinking through the tears that just won't stop coming into his eyes. “It's over, mom. Truly over. We're not right for each other.”

“Oh, baby,” Anne sighs, rubbing her hand over Harry's back. “I'm so sorry. You were so good together. I really thought this would last a long time.”

“I know,” Harry says and then a sob leaves his mouth. “I just- I don't know. I didn't think we would end like this.”

“Sweetheart, don't lose hope, okay?” Anne whispers. “I don't know what happened but nothing is ever truly over. You can fix this, if you both feel like it. But it's alright if you don't. Life goes on. You're still so very young.”

“Yeah, life goes on,” Harry chokes out, closing his eyes before he hides his face in his mom's shoulder.

A few minutes later, a voice comes from the doorway, “Well, well. What do we have here?”

Harry looks up and sees Gemma quirking her eyebrow at him from the archway, a cup between her hands. He loves his sister to death but now, she's honestly the last person he wants to see.

“Gemma, be sensitive,” Anne scolds her, dropping her voice. “They just broke up.”

“That looks like a pretty real breakup, doesn't it?” Gemma remarks while looking straight at Harry and leaves.

Harry just closes his eyes again and hugs his mom tighter. It's gonna be fine. He'll be just fine. This Christmas break isn't the worst mistake he's ever made. He's fucked up worse, he's sure of it. In a few months, he won't even remember how Zayn's lips felt against his or how his nose crinkled when he laughed. It'll be an anecdote, something Niall will tease him about and he will laugh over the next time he sees a fake-dating plot in a movie. Like his mom said, life goes on.

xxx

“Hazza, which shirt do you like best?”

Harry looks up from his book, flicking his eyes between the two short-sleeved shirts Niall is holding up in the air. One is a plain, denim-looking one while the other one has a vaguely plant-like pattern on it.

“I guess the patterned one,” Harry says. “You're not going to the fashion week, it's just a party.”

Niall scoffs, but takes Harry's advice nonetheless and puts the shirt on over his plain white tee. “It's _Zayn's_ birthday party and there are gonna be fancy people and I need to charm the ladies. Can't go in there looking like a bum.”

Harry hums noncommittally as he gets back to his book. He's been reading the same page over and over and over again because Niall's chatter keeps distracting him. Eventually, he hopes he's gonna at least finish the chapter by the time he goes back to his dorm.  
“Harold,” Niall snaps his fingers like a middle-aged rich woman. “Look at me.”

Harry lifts his head wearily. “What? You look fine. Just don't get drunk off your ass and you'll get laid no problem. I'm trying to read here.”

“You should come with me,” Niall says, now turned to the mirror on his door as he fusses with his hair. “You're acting like a proper cunt. Zayn told you he likes you, you clearly like him and he's a good lad. I'm sure he would be happy to see you at his party.”

“How can you know that, Ni?” Harry sighs. “Besides, I don't wanna go. If we ever see each other again, it has to be faith.”

Niall scoffs and smacks the back of Harry's head as he walks past him where he's splayed on Niall's bed. “I'm the best bloody wingman and matchmaker that has ever lived. I had Zayn go instead of me for a reason, a very good reason. I won't sit back and watch as you chuck this opportunity in the trash. No, sir. If you don't wanna come, alright, I won't force you. But you should make an effort. You fucked it all up.”

“Niall,” Harry whines. “I know, okay? I fucked up. I had a hangover, I was fucked over Logan texting me again and just about everything else. But I still think it's not the best idea. It won't end well either way.”

Niall raises his eyebrows at Harry before he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “You're insane. Relationships don't always work out. When you start dating someone, you're either gonna break up somewhere down the line or get married. Or be together until one of you die. That's some fucked up shite, yeah, but you can't be scared of it because you dated one cunt.”

“Okay, but what if Zayn turns out to be a cunt?” Harry asks. “What am I gonna do then?”

Niall laughs loudly as he meddles around with his desk. “Zayn's not a cunt. I know him better than you do. He's a lovely lad. He's gonna treat you like a bloody prince. Plus he's the most fucking beautiful man I've ever seen and I'm saying that as a fully straight man.”

Harry groans and covers his face with his book. “What if I don't wanna be treated like a prince?”

“You dumb cunt,” Niall hits the top of the book on Harry's face. “Just because you're used to being treated like trash by the men you sleep with doesn't mean all of them are like that. Those Grindr lads of yours, terrible. Logan, an utter cunt. You're throwing away a diamond for a rotten Big Mac.”

“That was a nice metaphor,” Harry's voice comes out muffled from underneath the book before he snatches it off and groans again. “I'll think about everything, okay? I can have some worries. Especially since my last relationship ended with my ex cheating on me a bunch and saying that he only did it because I wasn't fulfilling his needs.”

Niall gives him a look. “That's on him, not on you. You're a bloody catch, Haz. You're gorgeous and when you're not being a cunt, you're really great. So talk to Zayn, yeah? And _apologize_ to him. It's the least you can do for kicking him out like that.”

“I didn't technically kick him out, okay?” Harry rolls his eyes. “Besides, I spent the rest of my holiday being teased about how I could let a man like him go.”

“Well, how could you let a man like him go?” Niall asks as he puts his shoes on.

“I'm scared,” Harry answers and takes a deep breath. “And tonight, I can guarantee you that he's gonna be with someone else already. A man like him wouldn't wait around for a sorry son of a bitch like me.”

“Hey, don't say that,” Niall points a finger at him. “Anne is a lovely lady.”

Harry lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Anyway, I know I'm being stupid about this. But that doesn't help my situation. I like him, I do. And I don't even care about the fact that he forgot that I sucked him off once. God knows I don't remember everyone I've ever hooked up with. But it hurt because I remember really liking him and I wanted it to be more and I was cursing myself out for putting it all out right away. If I hadn't, this could've looked much different. Also, I doubt he's gonna want me after what happened at the cabin.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Niall gives Harry a look. “You know who should hear this? Zayn. So come with me and as a birthday present, put yourself to good use and tell him you love him. Give him a kiss on the cheek.”

Harry smiles a little. “I'm not going, Ni. Just… tell him I said hi. And I don't love him. I like him, yes, but I don't love him. I know it sounds like one but this isn't actually a rom-com, you know.”

“Petty details,” Niall waves a hand and reaches for his jacket. “I'll tell him that you've been crying over him non-stop and that he should come immediately and heal your broken heart with his magic cock. Lock up when you leave. Love ya.”

“Byee?” Harry calls after Niall after he disappears out of his room with a shiny gift bag in his hand. He sighs and tries to find the page in his book where he stopped reading. He's honestly not leaving until he reads that chapter.

xxx

Roughly an hour later, Harry finds himself walking around in the Central Park, his book tucked in the pocket of his parka. He's got both a hat and his hood on since it's snowing, it's freezing but he needed the fresh air and that's a precious commodity in Manhattan.

He goes to Cherry Hill, which he thinks is beautiful all years round, not only when the trees are in bloom. It's late, probably around midnight but Harry's not bothered enough to actually check the time. Thanks to the late hour, the park is almost completely deserted, although there are a few drunks people milling around, laughing and screaming as usual.

The cold is nasty but the overall scene with the snow and New York's lights glinting is worth it. Sometimes it's good to enjoy a beautiful thing for a while. Harry also needed to clear his head after that talk with Niall. After that disaster on New Year's Day, Harry was a bit of a mess. Suddenly, he had trouble sleeping in an empty bed again. He missed Zayn's presence there, always around him with a witty remark or a steady hand on his lower back. He cried it off with his mom like a little kid and he thought he was good but he wasn't.

Even that little time was enough to make Harry feel something again. He didn't realize it as it was happening because he had written off relationships for good but what he and Zayn had for those few days was as close to it as one can get and fuck, Harry _liked_ it. He didn't mind having someone to hold him at night, to kiss casually. To have those 'hello' and 'goodbye' kisses that don't mean anything else but perhaps a 'I'm happy to see you again'. He had fun with Zayn, whether they were ice skating or playing a board game with Harry's obnoxious cousins that he loves to death. Zayn fit in their little circle, no matter how hard Harry tried to turn a blind eye. He fit into Harry's life, in any and every way and Harry got terrified.

He was petrified because the last time he tried to make someone fit in every nook and cranny of his life, of his heart, it ended with a disaster and Harry in pieces. And yes, Harry managed to glue his heart back together but it was fucking difficult and he was reluctant to let someone handle it again. Even if he knew what a piece of shit his ex was and how he was wrong to make Harry feel terrible, the second Harry saw that text on his phone it was like no time had passed at all and he was back in that hole.

Zayn was different. He was a complete opposite of every man Harry has ever dated but thanks to one stupid night where they were both under the influence of God knows what, Harry thought he was just another one of the same bunch. But it was a damn frat party and Harry never gave Zayn a chance afterwards. He believed his being nice to Harry was just an act in public but it wasn't. People fuck up. Harry fucked up, by freaking out that morning. But he'd like to fix it.

He walks around the fountain atop Cherry Hill, hanging around it for a while, admiring how strange it looks with no water and with snow covering it all. It's a sight one can never get used to. After that bores him, Harry walks down the path to the lake, mostly curious to see if the edges are frozen or not. They might be, considering how fucking frigid it has been the past couple of weeks.

When he gets there, he sees another person standing around the edge of the path. Harry hopes it's not a robber or something who's gonna kill him but he's only got his book, phone and MetroCard on him. Maybe some gum and a tissue. As he walks closer, he sees that the man has a nice coat one so okay, probably not a criminal. When his eyes adjust to the dark and he gets even closer, he almost starts laughing because this could only be his fucking luck. His life is an actual joke.

“Why are you out in this cold when there's a roomful of people waiting for you?” Harry asks as walks to stand next to the stranger who isn't a stranger at all.

Zayn doesn't get startled by Harry, he could've seen him coming but he doesn't look at him at first. “I was there and I left because the one person I wanted there was missing. You?” Only then their eyes meet and Harry nearly loses his breath because fucking God, how can you miss the way someone looks you at you so much you struggle to breathe once you have it back?

“I was thinking about you, actually,” Harry clears his throat and attempts a smile before he ultimately has to avoid Zayn's gaze and look down because he's either going to start crying or smiling like a mad man.

“Good thoughts?” Zayn asks. Harry lifts his head and finds Zayn watching him with a smile small on his lips and his heart suddenly starts doing gymnastics.

“The best,” Harry replies and leans his head to kiss Zayn because it's the only thing he can think of doing. A stone falls off his chest when Zayn doesn't pull away. Instead, he puts one hand on Harry's face and the other on his hip, somehow finding Harry's jeans underneath that huge parka.

They kiss there by the lake as snow falls on them softly, their lips going from cold to burning and Harry feels so happy he could cry. He probably would've if it wasn't so damn cold. Eventually, even the sweetest of kisses has to end because they're short of breath but they have a hard time pulling away from each other. Harry keeps his arms wrapped around Zayn's neck, their foreheads pressed together as they both smile as complete fools.

“I am so so so so sorry,” Harry breathes out eventually, taking a small step back so he can look at Zayn properly. “That morning I was just- I fucked up, okay? Logan texted me and I was already scared of starting something real with a new person and because of that one fucking night, I had trouble believing that you wouldn't turn out just like him and frankly, I was scared. But I'm not anymore. And fuck, Zayn, I like you _so much_ and I regretted sending you away every second. I'm stupid and selfish and irrational, and even as recently as tonight, Niall had to yell at me what I dumb fuck I've been, and still am. Gemma hit the back of my head with newspaper every single day, multiple times after you left because I was being so stupid. She knew, by the way, and she was right that I should've just told you that I liked you and made whatever we had into something real. You were right too. I'm really sorry and I just… I want to ask you to give me a second chance.”

Zayn gives him a small smile. “You've got it, Haz. We both said some things that weren't very nice that day and it's fine, it happens. I just missed you. And I'm glad to have you back. Tonight was a really good coincidence, huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry lets out a breathy laugh. “I was leaving Niall's place and he was going on and on and on about how I made a mistake and how I should come to your party and apologize but I was hesitant. I didn't know if you would still want me after everything. After I behaved like a dick.”

“You weren't a dick,” Zayn frowns a little. “You'll tell me all about it one day, when you feel comfortable enough but right now, I'm good with you just being here. I like you too, Harry, and I have for a while. You're impossible not to like. When Niall brought you along to things, each and every time you made the room glow with your smile and energy. It was addicting. When we started kissing at the cabin, I felt like flying a bit too close to the sun but it felt too fucking good to stop.”

Harry grins at him. “Well… I'm all yours. Sunshine, smile, energy, all of it. Anything you want. I'm not throwing a diamond away for a rotten Big Mac.”

Zayn furrows his brows as he smiles. “What?”

“It's something Niall said tonight,” Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I was still unsure about all this. About whether I'm ready to put my weak, little heart out there but then I saw you and all of it was gone. The worry, the anxiety, poof. I just wanted to touch you again. Wanted to tell you how sorry I am for fucking up.”

Zayn rubs his hand along Harry's side, underneath all his outer layers and it feels like heaven to Harry have his hands on him again. “Glad I was here and not drinking overpriced champagne, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry chuckles. “You know, I said to Niall today, after I refused to go to your party, something along the lines that if we ever see each other again, it has to be faith. It's silly, isn't it?”

“Faith has Amazon Prime it seems like,” Zayn laughs. “Same-day delivery and everything. Even at night.”

“Imagine if we had to wait months for this,” Harry contemplates. They still haven't moved and stand there in an embrace like it's the end of the world. “I'm stubborn enough that I would've waited until I ran into you randomly and then I would've, I don't know, confessed my feelings for you in a Starbucks during rush hour.”

“Better Starbucks than the subway,” Zayn muses. “It's so fucking cold here though, even if it is admittedly romantic. You wanna come back with me to the party? There's food and champagne. And central heating.”

Harry hums. “I'm wearing the t-shirt I slept in last night.”

“Sexy,” Zayn leaves a kiss on Harry's cheekbone. “Just the right dress code.”

“Nooo,” Harry whines. “I can't show up like that to your birthday party. Just go without me. We can meet up tomorrow.”

Zayn scoffs and pulls Harry into a deep kiss. “Like hell I'm leaving you now,” he mutters against Harry's lips. “You're gonna freak out again, move to Honduras and change your identity. Nope, not a chance. You're coming with me. It's at my apartment so I'll give you something else to wear.”

They finally untangle from each other and start walking away, their hands clasped together between them. Neither of them is wearing gloves and when Harry looks down at their hands, he catches the familiar glint of a certain aqua stone he's definitely seen before.

“You're still wearing the ring I gave you for Christmas?” Harry asks shyly, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Uh, yeah,” Zayn looks down at their clasped hands. “Couldn't bring myself to take it off properly.”

Harry just smiles at him so wide he fears his face will split in half. “Well, back to your previous idea, we can take my shirt off, and your shirt too, and everything and just stay in your bedroom,” Harry suggests, knocking his hip against Zayn's. “Also, I thought this was something fancy. Niall acted like it was at the Peninsula or Four Seasons.”

Zayn laughs brightly. “No, it's just a party. There's catering because I'm honestly too lazy to make that much food for drunk people but it's casual. No pressure on you, babe. Even if you don't change out of your pyjamas, people aren't gonna notice.”

“We should give Niall like a gift basket or something,” Harry thinks out loud. “Without him, we never would've started dating.”

“Is that what we're doing?” Zayn teases. “I thought we were planning a robbery together and Niall was the fence.”

Harry snorts. “What's a fence?”

“Some kinda… middle man, I don't know, I heard it in a movie once,” Zayn laughs. “So you're my boyfriend now, huh, Styles?”

“Guess so,” Harry grins at Zayn and thankfully doesn't fall on his face because he's absolutely not looking where he's going. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Zayn grins back. “As long as you don't run from me.”

“Not going anywhere,” Harry shakes his head a little. “You will have to drag me out, kicking and screaming. One wise person once told me that once you find something good, you hold onto it. Or you in this case. I didn't take that advice once but I'm not making the same mistake twice.”

“Good,” Zayn stops walking and pulls Harry's face close to his again. “Because I plan to hold on to you for as long as you let me. Even if it's forever.”

The kiss then is saccharinely sweet and Harry revels in it. He doesn't think he's in love right now but if Zayn keeps kissing him like that, with skilled lips and quick tongue, Harry's sure it won't take him long before he falls in love with Zayn and he will fall hard. And he doesn't think that he will mind never falling out of it.

**_2 years later_ **

Harry has always been an early riser. The occasional party and the need to sleep it off doesn't count because on regular days, Harry's usually up around 7, if not earlier. He liked to get a run in before he starts his day, or cook breakfast or just read a few chapters of the latest book on his bedside table in bed.

Christmas morning as an adult is usually not an early morning as the time when presents are actually opened inches closer to midday than what Harry considers morning. Still, even on that day, he wakes up when it's barely even light outside, takes a quick shower and goes downstairs to the kitchen. He's surprised not to find him mom there already but he doesn't pay it much mind as he starts making a pot of coffee. He hums to himself some random song he can't really place as he waits and then nearly gets a heart attack when a pair of familiar arms snake around his waist.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry gasps and turns around, smacking Zayn on the head gently. “Imagine if I was pouring coffee, you dumbass. We would've had like third-degree burns right now.”

“Sorry,” Zayn gives him a shit-eating grin, not sorry at all as he pulls Harry flush to him and kisses him briefly. “Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, indeed,” Harry pecks his lips again before detaching himself and pouring both of them a cup of coffee. He adds creamer to both and cane sugar to his own. “Is the world ending that you're up so early?”

“No,” Zayn replies before muttering a thank you and taking the cup from Harry. “I started waking up like minutes after you lately. Can't sleep if I don't have you there. I'd really love it if you started getting up at normal people hours.”

“Aw, that's sweet,” Harry grins at Zayn obnoxiously and pinches his cheek. “But no. Not doing that. Not even for you. I live a very healthy lifestyle and you should join me, not try to get me to lower my health to your level.”

Zayn scoffs over his coffee mug. “Just because I don't drink a bunch of grass blended together doesn't mean I'm not healthy. I go to the gym. Sometimes you even drag me out to yoga with you.”

“You only go to yoga with me if I suck you off at home afterwards,” Harry scoffs but he has a hard time keeping the smile in. “Have you booked the tickets to Mexico already?”

“Yep,” Zayn nods and puts his mug down on the counter. “We're flying from JFK on the tenth of February at 8:25 AM. I don't remember the seat numbers, I'm not a computer.”

“Thanks, babe,” Harry comes to Zayn and kisses him quickly. “Can't wait to get a bit of sunshine with you before we both turn into zombies as we attempt to finish up our theses.”

“My dad still thinks it's a bad idea and that we should go after graduation,” Zayn chuckles. “But he doesn't have grad school and a very, very sexy boyfriend who looks amazing in tiny swimwear and even better naked so I don't think he can really comment on this.”

“Did you give him my present?” Harry asks. “I wrapped it in the least gay wrapping paper I found. It's silver. Not shiny, just vaguely metallic. I put in on the cabinet in the entryway.”

“Yes, I did,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “I assume you can expect a very formal email from him later today, expressing his gratitude. And babe, it's been two years, he's fine with us.”

“Fine, okay!” Harry puts his hands up. “I'm just saying, I like your mom better.”

“Who doesn't?” Zayn chuckles. “Speaking of presents, I have something for you that I didn't think would be appropriate to bring out in front of your family so you're getting it a bit early.”

“Zayn,” Harry whines, letting his head drop back. “What did I tell you? Don't fucking bring sex toys into my parents' cabin, house, car, anything!”

Zayn walks closer to Harry and gently grabs his left hand in his. “It's not a sex toy. Those handcuffs were forgotten in my bag from our trip to Connecticut. This is very much a nice, polite gift.”

“I don't believe a single word that just left your mouth,” Harry says but he can't wipe the lovesick smile off of his face. “So what do you have for me, Malik? Whatever it is, we're not trying it out until we're home.”

“Well,” Zayn clears his throat and takes out a small box that was hidden in a cupboard. It's wrapped in a red patterned paper with Christmas motive and Harry thinks of a few options right away, each dirtier than the other. “Open in it.”

Harry takes the box in his hands to find that it's pretty light and nothing too big or heavy could be hiding there. He unwraps the paper first, taking the gold bow with it as he digs deeper. Inside is a plain brown box and Harry quickly takes the lid off. Inside of it is another box but this time, it's a small red Cartier box and, “Oh my fucking God,” Harry whines as he covers his mouth. “You can't be serious.”

“I'm very much serious,” Zayn smirks at Harry and puts his hands on his hips. “But you still haven't opened the most important box.”

Harry looks at him quickly, tears already welling up in his eyes. He's never felt so much love in his life. It's all around him, in the way that Zayn's holding him, looking at him. His heart is wrapped in it like with a thick blanket. Harry finally takes the ring box out and opens it, finding a gold Love ring with a few diamonds set in it.

“Babe,” Harry says softly as he takes the ring out. “You're crazy.”

“Crazy about you maybe,” Zayn says and takes the ring from Harry's hand gently. “So what do you say, Haz? You wanna do this thing forever, maybe?”

“With you?” Harry teases but he can already feel the tears leaking out of his eyes. “I don't know, do I get a warranty with that? Where do I return you?”

“This is a no refund option,” Zayn laughs softly, looking down for a moment before his eyes meet Harry's again and yep, this is the exact place where Harry wants to be for the rest of his life. “You know, two years ago, you gave me a ring that didn't mean much. The roles are reversed now, I guess, but I was getting you some gifts and nothing felt quite right, quite good enough for you. And one morning, like two weeks ago I woke up and you were still in bed. You were reading one of those god-awful Bukowski books and it's like you could sense that I woke up and was looking at you. Then you looked at me and smiled and I just knew that that's how I want to wake up every single day for the rest of my life. I love you so fucking much, Harry, and I don't want to live my life without you. So if you feel the same way, no pressure, honestly, because we're not even done with grad school but I feel like we've always done things in the wrong order. But if you feel the same, would you like to marry me and do all those annoying things adults are expected to together?”

Harry sniffs, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his right hand. “Fuck yes. Of course. I love you so so so fucking much, Zayn, god. I'm so in love with you it's insane. So yes. A million times yes. I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else in the world. We fit together on some fucking… elemental and universal level, I don't even know, but whatever I'm doing it feels right when it's with you. I never wanted anything as badly as I want a forever with you.”

“I love you so much,” Zayn whispers and kisses Harry so gently it barely is anything at all. But it rarely ends there with them and Harry presses their lips together fully, wrapping his arms around Zayn. There have been many instances when Harry thought that they had their best kiss ever. The very first time was in Central Park when he pulled his head out of his ass and he and Zayn started dating like normal people. One of the other times was just after their graduation when they moved in together and decided to christen their new bed. But this one takes the hat so far. Harry is certain that he's going to think the same thing about their wedding kiss and about maybe a hundred other kisses. He might have an irking that he is right about them every single time.

“Give me my ring, please,” Harry mumbles into Zayn's lips when they stop kissing at last. “I want my diamonds and then get out.”

“Horrible, spoiled brat,” Zayn quips, kissing Harry again before he takes his left hand and slips the ring on his ring finger. He got the size just right because they're two sentimental assholes and ever since their first Christmas together, they have been buying each other rings constantly. Harry fears he might know the size of rings Zayn wears but not his own phone number. That's just a fear thought.

“You went quite classic,” Harry comments as he looks at his hand. “I didn't think you were one for conventional engagement rings.”

“We always get each other actually cool rings just for the sake of it,” Zayn shrugs. “I wanted this one to stand out. And it will sit better on your finger with a wedding band.”

“That's actually good foresight,” Harry laughs. “Fuck, I love you. Should we go have sex or gloat to my stupid cousins who are gonna stay forever alone?”

“It's your pick, both sounds like fun,” Zayn grins and kisses Harry quickly. Harry then grins like the Grinch himself and walks to the bottom of the staircase. “Hey, losers, wake up! We're getting married!” he yells at the top of his lungs. Zayn laughs from the doorway of the kitchen and it's fucking perfect.

Harry grins as he listens to the various shouts from upstairs, ranging from “Now? It's not even fucking nine AM!” (Matt), to “About damn time!” (Gemma) and even to “No wedding before you both finish grad school!” (Anne). He walks to Zayn then, laughing so hard his stomach is starting to hurt. As they kiss in the hallway between bounds of laughter, Harry really can't imagine a better way to get engaged.

Two years ago, in this very cabin, Harry had thought the most he can get out of that Christmas was perhaps a friend, if that. He truly had no idea that a single week could change his entire life. Harry not only got a friend but also his partner in crime, his fiancé, his eventual husband and most importantly, the love of his life.

If Niall hadn't nudged them into this, Harry never would've found that Zayn is his perfect half. The ying to his yang or whatever people say. Regardless of any cheesy metaphors, Harry found someone that marches to the beat of the same drum. They fit together like a well-made Swiss watch, whether it's simply cooking together or something fundamental as perhaps spending the rest of their lives together. Because Harry knows that no matter what happens in his life, he wants Zayn to be there. Whether it's good or bad. After all, not everything is so bad when they still have each other.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Please do leave some feedback and don't forget to turn in for the next chapter in a few days :)


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